


soulmate's connection.

by caticoo



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: //AGGRESSIVELY PASSES AROUND LOVE FOR EVERYOE, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Everybody Lives, HEY YEAH DID U KNOW I LOVE YOU GUYS, M/M, THIS ONE BECAME ALL FOR YALL, aka its self indulgemennt and i hate myse, anyone past saihara's chara tag appears for 2 seconds and kaede is like 5 seconds, everyone gets a soulmate connection and stuff, in future chapters maybe ouma needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-15 15:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12323604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caticoo/pseuds/caticoo
Summary: i could fix the broken in your heartyou're worth saving, darling.soulmates au.





	1. i've been running from the pain.

**Author's Note:**

> hi. my name is cati! i love danganronpa.  
> i don't know EVERYTHING about the newest game, but i know that ouma is very very gay (for shuuichi, but that's my personal preference). i'm also a huge sucker for these sorts of aus. i wanted everyone to live, darn it. also, i am bad at writing ouma. you can tell. but i hope it doesn't hinder your experience.
> 
> this takes place during the ultimate talent development plan au too... with the soulmates twist. a section of this chapter is dedicated to the history of the concept.
> 
> also !! please check out ao3 user smartiexoxo and norikotora's fanart for this fic !!! i absolutely adore it !! http://listenmorty.tumblr.com/post/166473048573 & https://cinamontora.tumblr.com/post/166640611025/this-is-a-gift-for-caticoo-for-her-saioumas
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

There was a special thing that existed in the world.

Among the other possible universes that Shuichi Saihara had the opportunity of being placed in (if different universes existed in the first place, which was a whole idea to explore itself. Angie claimed that the universe that Atua resided in was the true universe, while others, such as Miu, called bullshit, claiming that deities had nothing to do with the scientific probability of other universes. Regardless…), he had grown up in a world where your romantic life was set out straight for you.

It was an odd phenomenon that had only developed in the past half a century or so, and scientists were still trying to find out what force was causing these things. Attempting to decipher a thing that seemed only ethereal and beyond knowledge’s explanation (Miu once again called bullshit). This thing was referred to as the Soulmate’s Connection. The Soulmate’s Connection seemed to arise from nowhere, however, the first reported case was beyond everyone’s imaginations: two blind individuals, who were born so from the moment they were brought to life, miraculously regained their vision once they had met one another.

And once that story arose, many more miraculous tales of finding another person, or sometimes person _s_ , came to light. They came in a various amount of forms, that with the rapid appearance of this strange occurrence, scientists were always on their toes to update and find new ways people were finding these strange relationship mishaps. The unexplainable phenomenon only increased in variety -- babies were soon born with odd formations, like clocks embedded on their wrists, or the ability to only see black and white. Until meeting a person, or several other persons, regardless of their gender, weight, height, race… and there were only a few cases to which many were unsatisfied with their “destined partner.” There were some cases of people being born without any of these strange mutations, never to meet a destined partner, but according to research, these people seemed fine with the fact. Romance, to them, seemed undesirable.

Studies on this skyrocketed, and all throughout his childhood, Saihara had grown up surrounded by this “amazing” miracle. He had not understood what made it so amazing when he was small, but this was made up in his maturity. The world was reported to be “more peaceful” and “happier” compared to a half a century ago. Despite the 50 years of excitement, many still hyped up others about this thing, this new, amazing thing that almost everyone had. It was like cellphones: it was a huge, huge thing when it first emerged, and now, it’s a thing everyone expected of you.

If he was being his most honest, Saihara cared… less about his Soulmate’s Connection compared to everyone else in his classes growing up. In fact, he didn’t fit in at all -- always stuffing his nose into storybooks and articles, while other children played and fantasized about their soulmate. Of course, women tended to ogle more about the future fantasy, but men were equally excited to meet theirs. Saihara was not one of those men.

His general indifference towards the Soulmate’s Connection didn’t spark anything negative. His parents weren’t too concerned (after all, he was doing quite well in his academics), and that seemed to be the general thing that they pushed on him (but not too harshly) in his upbringing. Without his mind set on his Soulmate’s Connection, Saihara began to become interested in less happy subjects: like crime (which was, of course, still prevalent, but at a lower rate now). A detective. Once he had learned what that was, his heart soared, and he knew what he wanted to be when he grew up.

There was once a time where he had solved a case that even the head detectives in the authority branch couldn’t get a handle of, which caused him to receive much praise for his work. This was during his last year of junior high, and before he could even take any high school entrance exams, he was awarded with a special letter of requested admission to one of Japan’s most praised high school: Hope’s Peak Academy. It was not a difficult yes.

Every student that attended the special academy received a title of recognition for their “talent” -- Saihara’s was the “Ultimate Detective”, despite only solving one major case (he had solved smaller cases, including a large amount of missing pet cases). As much as he found himself unbefitting of a title such as “Ultimate Detective”, he couldn’t deny that there was a little, tiny, measel of pride in his heart. Did he feel like he deserved the title? No. But was he unhappy with it? Also a no.

That only meant he had to work hard and live up to it.

* * *

 

When high school began, it was around this time where he began to become more social, even by just a little bit. Compared to his days as a child, he had matured to understand that relationships with people, especially ones you would see on a daily bases, were important -- _good_ relationships were _more_ important. He made an effort, albeit an estranged and awkward one (as, really, trying to speak with someone around his age on a non-business, casual way was a little bit foreign to him), but he had managed to make his first friend on the first week of school: Kaede Akamatsu.

“So, Saihara-san,” Kaede began one afternoon, while the two began to get comfortable during the lunch hour. Saihara had already learned how to relax in front of other students, and not hide behind the barrier that was either his hat or a book. So far so good. “What’s your Soulmate’s Connection?”

The question led Saihara to blink a couple of times, processing what Kaede had asked him. His Soulmate’s Connection… it was something he didn’t think about often. Kaede waited patiently, knowing of Saihara’s tendency to think for a little before answering, “Ah… well, to be honest, they couldn’t diagnose it.”

“Oh, really?” Kaede’s face filled with understanding. A lot of the times doctors could decipher what your Soulmate’s Connection was (ie. you will see color when you meet your soulmate), but sometimes (it was not rare, but uncommon, like an allergy,) it seemed impossible to tell without any physical or mental clues. Which was only to be expected: with the boom of this new phenomenon, physicians were rushing to memorize how to identify each Connection. Some were more common, and others seemed to only be unique to two people...

What a strange thing, it was, really.

“Yeah,” Saihara sighed, not exactly out of remorse for the situation, but more after the exhaustion of it all. “Well… it’s not like it really matters. Studies show that most of the time, people meet their soulmate after high school.”

Kaede nodded, “Yeah, that’s true. Still, you don’t seem excited about it. Aren’t you curious?”

“Well… sort of,” Saihara shrugged indifferently. “I never paid too much attention to it. My parents aren’t particularly pushy about it, and I took interest in other things when I was younger, so I sort of blocked out all the talk about our Soulmate’s Connection.”

“Haha. I guess it does get sort of excessive after hearing it all your life,” Kaede agreed, humming along. “Yet… I’d still wonder if I was in your situation. Unlike everyone else, you won’t know who it’ll be until it hits you in the face.”

 

* * *

 

Perhaps Kaede’s words were a bit too literal.

The third week of school in, when he had entered the classroom at a much earlier time than one would arrive at classes (most other students hung out in more “casual” spots), he was met face-first with a force that sent his head aback by several inches. An involuntary, “Ow!” was shouted, and Saihara had stepped back to see what had hit him. It was a book bag.

“Whoooops. Sorry about that,” An unfamiliar voice chimed, and Saihara looked up from the book bag in which could have potentially destroyed his nose if sent at a force that Gonta (one of his classmates, who had proven his strength in Physical Education) could throw at. A small boy, maybe half a foot or so shorter than Saihara, waltzed up to the book bag, pulling it up and back into his hands.

A pain struck into Saihara’s wrist that felt like needles, but lasted only for a split second. Saihara begun to pull his long sleeve down to see what had happened, but the boy had captured his attention away, “Hey, I said I was sorry! ...O-Oh, are you that mad? W-Well, fine! You look mean anyways! You big, ugly, meanie! W-WAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Taken aback by the boy’s sudden crying, Saihara stopped his action and closed the door behind him so that no one outside could have witnessed him push a smaller boy to tears. He waved his hands and shook his head, “H-Hey, wait! I’m sorry, I was just distracted. Please don’t cry.”

The shorter boy’s crying quelled, and after a few seconds, he seemed to bounce back from his fit almost immediately, “Oh, well, fine. I’m bored of that excuse anyways. I already used it twice today.”

Saihara blinked, confused. Excuse? Twice? “U-Um… what?”

“Nishishi… I was _lying_. Silly,” His face was coated with no remorse for his actions whatsoever. Saihara wondered who on Earth he managed to encounter, and why so early in the morning, too. “I’m Kokichi Ouma, by the way. I’m the headmaster’s son.”

“H-Headmaster’s--!?” Suddenly, Saihara was much more terrified of the power of this boy than before. If he hadn’t stopped crying, he would have probably told his father, and who knows what sort of stories would float around about the boy from Class 79 who got kicked from the school program entirely because he made the headmaster’s son cry.

Just as his face twisted with more nerves, Ouma giggled in that unique laugh of his, “Nishishi~ you’re so easy to fool! That was a lie. I’m just a student in this class.”

 _Two lies already…?_ It was only 7 in the morning, but Saihara’s head was already spinning, “A-Ah… alright. You aren’t… lying again, are you?”

“Not this time! Or maybe I am…?”

“T-That really doesn’t help,” Saihara sighed, fixing his posture. “Anyways… what are you doing here so early? And I’ve never seen you in this class before. Are you new?”

“It’s ‘cause I wake up early. I don’t know anybody here, so I thought about waiting here until I got bored. I was flinging the bookbag around to see how much I could destroy my stuff!”

“D-Destroy your stuff?” Saihara piped. “You shouldn’t do that…”

“Hey, you aren’t the boss of me!” Ouma shouted. “What’s your name? You never told me, y’know.”

“Oh… it’s Shuichi Saihara.”

 

* * *

 

It was strange. Ever since their first encounter, Saihara knew that Ouma was fishy business -- from his excessive lying, to his generally malicious nature. He didn’t hesitate to begin picking on Kiibo, the Ultimate Robot (Saihara was still fascinated by this, but not as much as Miu was), pestering him with questions about whether or not he had genitals, or harassing Yumeno, who he kept calling ugly. Some more innocent characters, like Gonta, seemed to enjoy Ouma’s personality if only to be more gentlemanly -- but most disliked him from the beginning.

It wasn’t exactly a dislike thing for Saihara. Sure, Ouma got annoying sometimes, as he sometimes acted like a literal child in front of everyone, but there was no hate or dislike. More of… curiosity, and the desire to figure him out. The more Ouma showed himself off to his classmates, by either telling them of his top secret criminal organization (Saihara himself tried to look for it, and try as he might, even he came up with nothing) or generally making a fuss, the more Saihara wondered if this was the person that Ouma really was.

After all, everything about his personality seemed to be… _fake_. The sides he showed to everyone, including Saihara himself, seemed to be built on lie on lie, so much so that Ouma had purposefully blurred the lines between honesty and fib in his own person. Saihara didn’t understand why he chose to do this: why he’d purposefully make it difficult for others to reach his true self.

It wasn’t an obsession thing or anything, just something he tended to think about when he knew the topic of lesson already. Ouma sat the next row over, three seats in front of him, so Saihara always had a clear view of the back of his head. That’s when the wondering starts. And, plus, it’s not like he hadn’t made contact with Ouma at all: in fact, when he wasn’t harassing anybody, Ouma seemed to be naturally drawn to Saihara.

Although they weren’t friends that hung out every single day (Saihara’s best friend was still Kaede, although, she had recently started to stray off into her own group: two girls from different classes, a pop star and a musician. This didn’t mean she totally left Saihara abandoned, and instead gave Saihara the proper amount of solitude while still feeling included), it wasn’t too much of an uncommon sight to see the two together. Saihara couldn’t muster up the courage to shoo Ouma away, and by the time he had enough courage, he had already deciphered how Ouma would react to such a command.

So there wasn’t any point in shaking him off.

It wasn’t also as if their relationship was entirely harasser and harassed, like many of Ouma’s relationships with his classmates. Ouma still pulled pranks on Saihara, still pestered him and still bothered him his lies, but it was noticeably to a less degree than with Kiibo or Yumeno. Maybe it was because he was his first “friend”, or maybe it was because of another reason. He asked Ouma, one afternoon.

“It’s because my beloved Saihara-chan is different,” Ouma cooed, and Saihara couldn’t help but fidget over the nickname. Over the course of them getting to know one another and hanging out, Ouma had picked up the cutesy nickname, which set others ablaze when heard. Saihara had to always explain it was just a nickname and they were not each other’s soulmates. “You’re not as boring as everyone else. And that’s not a lie.”

Saihara didn’t push it further than that, but it was certainly interested knowledge. What exactly made him different compared to everyone else? The way he acted? Was it his patience with Ouma? Or his understanding, perhaps? He agreed with the hypothesis that Ouma was simply amused by his personality: he wasn’t one to lead to angry remarks like Miu or Yumeno, nor was he overly innocent about it like Gonta was. Kiibo was another individual that Saihara could compare himself to… but he was very well a robot, and his reactions was just as calculating as Ouma’s lies.

Still… was that really what made him special? His personality? He attempted to find some sort of greater motive for Ouma’s odd clinginess towards him, but all of his leads led to an inevitable dead end, especially backed by all of Ouma’s lying. He was simply too difficult to decipher, but part of his desire to live up to the Ultimate Detective was the figure out even the most difficult cases. Kokichi Ouma was his most difficult yet.

“Why do you wear that emo hat all the time, Saihara-chan?” Ouma questioned as the two sad beside each other in the classroom. It was late February, and the weather outside was still significantly cold.

“I just like it,” Saihara simply put. “It’s like asking why you wear that scarf all the time, even when it’s hot. Plus, a hat works with both heat and cold…”

Ouma stuck out his tongue as a response, but quickly made a move for his head right after, snatching the headwear from it’s place, “Whoops! Now it’s not on your emo head!”

“H-Hey, give that back!” Saihara cried, the newfound chill on his skull sending a shiver to his body. Surprisingly, Ouma didn’t run -- instead, he stayed put where he was, standing in front of the desk that Saihara was sitting in before standing up, assuming Ouma would run off with his precious headwear.

It was then he realized Ouma had never really observed his face and hair. Sure, he took it off during PE, but everyone was so busied with their performance (and the pain) that it was difficult to notice somebody else during the duration. Ouma’s face crept into a smile, “Saihara-chan! You look a lot less emo now!”

“Thanks…? Please give my hat back,” Saihara pleaded, and Ouma’s mischievous grin filled his visage as he then sprinted to the window, hastily pulled it open, and threw Saihara’s hat out. Saihara was only seconds too late. “M-MY HAT!”

“Goodbye, Hat of Death!” Ouma laughed, as he watched Saihara mumble despair under his breath and sigh, as he began to make his way to the exit of the classroom. “Saihara-chan! Where are you going?”

“To get my hat back!” Saihara responded, head feeling exposed for all to see. He continued onwards, but Ouma quickly reeled him back in with the swift grab of his hand.

“No. That hat’s ugly. Leave it! I-”

Before Ouma could finish his sentence, a strong, electrical shock that seemingly originated from his fingers rung throughout Saihara’s body, which caused him to jerk away from Ouma’s touch. Ouma must have felt it too, as he recoiled in the unexpected pain.

“Yowchie! What was that?” Ouma questioned. “Saihara-chan… did you perhaps… prank _me_? Nishishi~ wow, I didn’t even realize you had a buzzer on your hand!”

Saihara blinked, “Ouma, I don’t have a buzzer on me.”

“You don’t…?” Ouma repeated, genuinely confused. There was a silence that settled between them -- an odd, awkward, yet genuine silence. It was in that moment that Saihara really got a good look at Ouma’s eyes: round, and purple, and really, it was a child’s eyes. Saihara coughed, then, realizing if this gone any longer, it would turn awkward.

“It was… probably just the static. C’mon… let’s just go get my hat.” Still entranced by what had happened, Ouma silently nodded, obviously thinking.

The both of them knew there was nothing in their proximity that could have possibly caused them both such a large shock.


	2. it's a shame that we're sinking.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> saihara notices the beautiful things about the world, and how fleeting everything is.
> 
> everything from flower petals, to kokichi ouma's lies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again.  
> i'm very happy with the overwhelming positivity for this fic! i honestly didn't think i'd be writing more of it since it was a spur-of-the-moment plot and writing prompt, but since a lot of you seem to like it, i decided to continue. i'm honestly not sure how many more chapters i will do.
> 
> i apologize if your experience is hindered, as a third of this was written in a crammed classroom on a phone. another third of it is simply dedicated to "redemption arc saihara", but don't worry, it's still saiouma ;)

“Only fools~” Ouma sang along to the buttery smooth voice of the popular artist, albeit in a much merrier tone than the one that blasted from the boy’s purple-cased phone. “Rush in~”

“That's an entirely different song,” Saihara pointed out. Ouma snickered, approaching the phone and lowering its volume from sickeningly loud (did Ouma have some sort of extension that led his sound to blast as if it were a large speaker?) to a tolerable, soft murmur.

“Congratulations, my Ultimate Detective! You solved the biggest case on the planet!” A smile was plastered onto Ouma’s face per usual, but Saihara could tell it was more like sarcasm rather his playful fib. “C'mon, let's hurry it up with this cleaning. I'm getting super bored.”

“Let's” meaning “Saihara", as all Ouma had contributed to cleaning hour was smacking the chalk dust out of the window and other students unsuspecting heads down below. What Saihara noticed about this time of day is that Ouma had  _ always _ chosen his company rather anybody else's, save for the times where Kirumi requested their help and would reward Ouma with a two liter bottle of Panta. Otherwise, despite doing only the small chores and leaving Saihara to wiping down tables, sweeping the floors, and taking care of the garbage, Ouma stuck around.

Saihara found it more odd that he chose to “work" alongside him if he claimed that working was boring. With Ouma’s constant mischief and lying and ability to pull strings, Saihara was sure that he would have the ability of escaping cleaning hour if he chose so. But he did not choose this. He chose to work instead, and work primarily with Saihara.

A lot of the times the classroom they cleaned was filled with silence.

It was the end of the day, and the evening found its home through the glass of the window, spraying golden beams into the workings of each classroom. It was a pretty scene, something straight out of a manga or anime scene: Saihara only knew this because Hifumi had asked him to read some of his work. Manga was exactly as he had expected it to be, especially the shoujo themes of Hifumi’s Saihara was lended.

Some piqued his interest more than others, like crime based ones. Detective Conan was both fun and serious, and when he heard of it he couldn't help but take a quick peak of the newest volume in a 777 Quick Stop. His newfound interest in manga was a secret to all. However, he had also taken notice of some serious of manga that took place in another universe (again with the universe thing…) where the Soulmate’s Connection never existed. In a modern time setting, except everything about romance was taken into your own hands: you had no idea who your soulmate would be, and you could even fail at a relationship. It was called heartbreak. Saihara was aware of the feeling: it was something you received when a close individual dies. He had seen it multiple times in interrogation rooms. 

But imagining going through heartbreak himself, more over as a result of getting rejected for simple affections… well, that was hard on his brain.

Ouma rocked his feet back and forth as he sat atop a desk, watching Saihara bend around the teacher's desk and wiping it down with a moist towelette. The air was only filled with the voice of the male singer, who Saihara didn't know.

_ Oh, our lives don't collide, I'm aware of this. _

Saihara rounded the table so that he and Ouma faced each other. The shorter boy had found fatigue in the warm sun and exhaustion from the school day (and by extent, “cleaning"), and his eyes showed evident of this. His eyelid began to pull itself onto his eyeballs, and a dazed, sleepy yawn escaped from the boy’s mouth.

_ The differences and impulses and your obsession with, _

Saihara made sure to make it look as if he was still cleaning, but his eyes were more interested in deciphering the physical workings of Kokichi Ouma. He kept his head down, but gaze up -- Ouma hadn't taken notice, and if he had, he was either ignoring it or waiting for the right moment to openly tease Saihara for staring. “I'm sleeeeepy. This orange light is warm, like a mom’s womb,” Ouma whined, gaze moving from outside the window towards Saihara, who made a quick dodge od eye contact. Ouma must have noticed -- Saihara saw that little smirk just shy of his line of vision.

_ The little things. You like stick, and I like aerosol _

“Saihara-chan, were you  _ staring _ at me?” There was much more playfulness than there was scolding, as if Ouma liked the thought. Ouma casually slipped from his sitting position on the desk, up to Saihara, who made an even hastier attempt to scrub the table. “And haven't you been cleaning that desk for a little  _ too _ long?”

_ Don't give a fuck, not giving up. _

Saihara timidly raised his head and made eye contact with the other boy, who he was sure, now, had the galaxies in his eyes. There were stars in them, every time he managed to study them without asking directly (he had never asked directly). Saihara gulped, sighed, and gave up all together to try and lie to the best liar he knew.

“A-Ah… yeah, I was. And I am. Sorry about that,” Saihara apologized, which only aroused amusement from the other boy. Ouma stayed silent for a short few seconds after that, but the awkward yet peaceful existence of no movement or words, just watching one another, was interrupted by Ouma snatching Saihara’s hat from his head. He  _ would _ have made a cry for the absence of his headwear, but at this point, he knew he had to earn it back.

“Nishishi… I never thought you'd see me like that, Saihara-chan,” Ouma sung, sitting back on the desk, Saihara’s hat now on Ouma’s own head.

A sparkle of… something, Saihara unfortunately did not know what, glittered in Ouma’s eyes.

_ I still want it all. _

“But shouldn't you be saving those stares for your  **soulmate** , Saihara-chan?”

 

* * *

 

His interest in his own Soulmate’s Connection began to peak after that encounter. Ouma’s comment about  _ saving the stare _ was what really triggered it: he had never looked observed anyone the way he had with Ouma, then. Sure, he took extensive hours to learn how to describe people’s faces, getting a clear picture of key details of a person’s appearance. This was only necessary in the world of crime and investigation. However, words like “beautiful” or “holy” never came to light. Adjectives that were unnecessary were unnecessary. Brown hair was always preferred over beautiful hair in an interrogation of witnesses.

So what he had saw in Ouma was a first. Words that were typically described of objects or paintings were used to describe Ouma in that small fraction of time. It was… unreal. It was foreign. And Saihara couldn’t hate it at all: it was beneficial to the way he saw not just Ouma, but everything in general. Not everything had to be about logics or had to be important. Saihara knew this, but he simply hadn’t acknowledged it until joining the academy.

It was spring time now and soon, he and the rest of his class were to move up a grade. Everything was in wonderful bloom despite it only being mid March, a week prior to spring holiday. Those who appreciates the outdoors, like Gonta and Gundam, spent a lot of their free time outside of the main building, and even those who seemed allergic to the outside world couldn’t deny the wonderfully welcoming season of spring. Spring was definitely the most attractive season of Japan -- it’s the season that was advocated around the world. When a foreigner thought of “Japan”, a usual connection were its famous cherry blossoms.

Cherry blossoms littered the flooring of the front of the school, and Saihara managed to catch a stray petal floating in the wind. It was lunch time now, and Ouma had excused himself from Saihara’s company (a rare thing) to eat in the lunch hall, moaning about his hunger. Seeing this as a perfect opportunity to find some peaceful solitude, without the anxiety and pressure of schoolwork like how it was after classes, he decided to take a stroll around the large front entrance.

It was pretty. He had heard that the trees, benches, and other floral arrangements at the entrance were just recently established the year before: he could only imagine what it was like beforehand, bare and gray. Thankful for the scenery, the least that Saihara could do was enjoy himself, as he settled onto one of the benches, and simply stared idly at a group of cherry blossom branches. He wasn’t a flower expert, but he had managed to catch drift of the meaning of cherry blossoms: renewal. How short life was, and how much you needed to pursue in such a short, short lifespan.

His vision of the sky, and his gaze upon the entire courtyard was blocked by the low deck of his cap. Saihara shifted it to point more upwards, which definitely helped, but somehow, he still found to be bothered by it. A strange, strange feeling -- the realization of the cherry blossom’s meaning and how much his hat meant to him as a comfort object mushed together. It allowed Saihara to recall all of the times he had been separated from this hat, by the mischief of the one and only Kokichi Ouma.

Perhaps he was overthinking things, like he always did. Kokichi Ouma and the cherry blossoms had no correlation to each other whatsoever. And yet… something about leaving it at that felt… bothersome. No, something in his being said that there was a connection, even if it was false, even if it was fleeting. Hesitantly, this time, Saihara removed the cap from his head, and took a good, long look at his surroundings.

He saw the bright, blue sky, and the sunshine against the pink, fleeting beauty of the cherry blossoms. The shadows that the leaves created, and the small breeze that messaged each petal away from its parent. A whole new outlook of life opened up to the detective, and suddenly, he felt as if he understood the whole scenery now: the big picture. Little details could be picked up after he took a glance at the whole thing. Who knew the whole thing could be so pretty.

Saihara glanced down at the comfort object known as his hat. He loved the hat dearly. He wore it while he had solved the chance case, and all the accomplishments he had achieved as a detective thereafter. He supposed he wore it not only as a means of hiding his face, but to feel more befitting of the title he wished to achieve. Something in him told him that being a detective didn’t just mean wearing a hat and solving crimes. It was then he realized it was much more.

And who had been trying to take off that hat of his, this whole school year? Kokichi Ouma. Again came the realization that these two subjects likely had no correlation whatsoever, and Saihara was likely over analyzing as always. Again, came the bothersome feeling of leaving it with no connection. In his heart, Saihara had decided that the two did connect, and privately believed that Ouma was, other than annoying him, trying to make him come out of his shell.

Saihara decided to stop wearing the hat from that day onward.

 

* * *

 

“Saihara-chan!” Ouma beamed at a groggy, half-awake Saihara. “You’re up! Nishishi, I’m glad!”

Ouma had somehow found a way to break into his room, about halfway through the school year. The first time Saihara woke up to see Ouma peering at him with curious eyes, he freaked out and had accidentally hurt his skull on the headboard. It wasn’t a giant injury, but the fact Ouma had been in his room at all was overriding the pain he felt. Even after politely asking him to seize, Ouma still kept coming in and being there when he woke up, and on random mornings, too. This way, Saihara never had the ability to predict when Ouma would be there.

So he just let it happen. There was really zero use in yelling at Ouma to stop, as even though he didn’t prefer Ouma watching him in his sleep, at least he never had any true malicious intent with him. More than one occasion did Saihara wake up with words scribbled onto his forehead, some adjectives and some random words or phrases (a common one was “I love Panta!” even though Saihara preferred coffee over carbonated drinks). But, usually, Ouma’s wake up calls weren’t the worse he could do: he typically called his name, said good morning, and told him he should either wake up faster or that he was glad to see him awake.

Saihara lifted from his bedsheets, and rubbed his eyes to get a better vision. Ouma was already dressed in his day-to-day wear, that white outfit and checkered scarf with starked with Saihara’s own choice of darker colored attire. Ouma’s face grew frustrated, “Hey, Saihara-chan? Are you listening to me?”

Saihara murmured, “What time…?”

“You must’ve been over researching.  _ Again _ ,” Ouma huffed. “It’s actually one in the afternoon!”

“O-One in the--!?” Saihara yelped, looking at the clock to confirm it-- aaand, of course. It was not one in the afternoon. It was 9:30 AM. Still, this was a little late for Saihara to be waking up… maybe he had overworked himself last night.

“Nishishi… got you again,” Ouma snickered, and Saihara only blew a strand of stray hair out of his face as a response. This was the second day of spring holiday, and Ouma had already made it apparent he wished to spend time with Saihara out of classes. “Oh, yeah, there was something I needed to ask.”

“This early?” Saihara mumbled, shuffling out of his sheets and moving towards his closet. How important could it possibly be?

“Saihara-chan, I realized that you never told me what your Soulmate’s Connection was,” Ouma simply replied, watching Saihara intently as he shed off his shirt for a clean, sleeves-rolled-up dress shirt. Oh, that was true: Saihara had never told Ouma about his Soulmate’s Connection, nor did Ouma admit his own. It was likely because they never really touched the subject, with talking about things that interested the two more, like Ouma’s secret organization and Saihara’s many crime cases.

“Is that really what you wanted to ask me?” Saihara sighed, now realizing that he had gotten so used to Ouma’s presence that he had just switched shirts in front of him. Which wasn’t exactly an intimate thing, but… Saihara was not one that exposed his bare skin very often, especially to others. The only time he donned shirtless was when he was in the shower. He was glad he stopped himself from wandering too far into the aimless comfortableness that he was to switch his pants in front of him, too.

“Yes! Now tell me! Or I might just cut that strand of hair of yours right off of your head while you sleep.”

Saihara shivered at the thought of his cowlick being cut off. Something about that look on him didn’t feel right, “Alright, alright… I actually don’t know what my Soulmate’s Connection is. The doctors assure me that I  _ do  _ have it… they just can’t pinpoint which one, exactly.”

Ouma blinked, seemingly processing this information, face blank. He then proceeded to casually smile, “Oh, well, poor you. Looks like you’ll grow up all alone and saggy.”

“I-I’m not going to grow up alone,” Saihara retorted, not caring for the saggy part. He was sure Ouma would get saggy too, but the thought of such a young, fresh face with wrinkles made him uncomfortable. “I said that they know that I have one. They just don’t know what the circumstances are.”

“Reaaaally,” Ouma chimed. “Now I get why you wanna be alone all the time. It’s ‘cause of the Soulmate’s Connection, right?”

“No, it isn’t, Ouma,” Saihara sighed, not wanting to change his pants in front of the other, and instead made his way to his bed, where Ouma was sitting. He sat next to him. “I just never really cared.”

“Oh. That’s boring,” The shorter male sighed. “Compared to myself, that’s super boring! I have not one, but  _ ten  _ Soulmate’s Connections! That means I’m bound to be ten people’s soulmates.”

Ten? Saihara had heard of Soulmate’s Connections up to at least six, but never ten… it made him wonder what sort of group of people, especially ten of them, would be able to cherish and love Ouma the way a single romantic partner would do. Perhaps it had something to do with DICE? ...Regardless, Saihara nodded in response, “Ah, I see… that’s great, Ouma.”

“Haha, I know. I can’t see any color! Or feel heat or cold! And a bunch of other stuff, but I don’t want my beloved Saihara-chan to feel bad about his loneliness,” Ouma’s tone softened, if only slightly. “If Saihara-chan wants, then _ I  _ could fill his loneliness.”

“What?” Saihara shot back, and a warmth rose to his cheeks. He knew he was joking, but the small silence that fell afterwards and the blank stare that followed from Ouma certainly didn’t help.

“... Just kidding! Nishishi, I wouldn’t want to waste all my time with Saihara-chan, even if he is less boring than everyone else,” Ouma laughed, and Saihara felt something off about the whole situation. The fact that Ouma sounded a lot more genuine than he usually did in that last comment, and the small hesitation to expose his lie (if it was a lie) that followed right after. Saihara thought for a moment, as Ouma lifted himself from the seat next to the detective. “I’ll wait in the bathroom. Go and change into your big boy pants, Saihara-chan.”

“Hey, Ouma--” Saihara called out, and attempted to grab the hand that Ouma swung behind him in order to scurry away from the scene. It was as if dipping his entire hand in ice water. They both recoiled from the shock, and had to take a moment to look at each other, again, as if one had played a prank on the other.

“Oh, so you’ve pulled another prank on me, Saihara-chan? Wow, you’re getting better!” Ouma played it off like a joke, but Saihara knew that Ouma knew what the actual truth was. A liar had to know the truth before he could lie, after all.

“Ouma… there’s nothing on my hand that would’ve caused that.”

“...,” Ouma stood, in silence, again. This was just like that cold night in the winter time: except it was cold instead of some electric shock. What was happening…? “...Ah, well, too much to think about. Overthinking things isn’t fun.” And just like that, Ouma entered the bathroom to patiently wait for Saihara to finish getting dressed.

Saihara looked at his palm, then. Nothing had changed, physically. It was only a momentary grab of Ouma’s hand, and yet… something odd was happening, and Ouma seemed to acknowledge it too.

The only difference between them was that Saihara was the one that was interested, and Ouma was not. It became Saihara’s duty that morning to find out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading !  
> i love reading everyone's comments (´へωへ`*) so don't be surprised if i reply to you ! i love to talk to all the supporters of the fic. if you're curious, the song that kokichi plays at the beginning of the chapter is FOOLS by troye sivan (and he playfully transitions into Can't Help Falling in Love), but i'm sure most of you know that.
> 
> as always, positive comments and kudos are very very much appreciated !! it gives me the motivation to continue.
> 
> owie, my hands are tired from all this typing. time to rest up.


	3. my confidence is shaking, your heart is feeling vacant.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> saihara and ouma attend yozakura.
> 
> ouma sees cherry blossoms, saihara sees galaxies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again.  
> thank you for more positivity ! i'm actually enjoying writing this fic a lot, and seeing everyone's continued support is my favorite thing. i get all jittery when i get comments.
> 
> i woke up at 1:45 AM tonight, and now it's nearly 4 AM. it's probably because i fell asleep at 6 PM yesterday due to being awake until 1 the morning before writing this. don't worry about me, i'm perfectly fine. <3 as always, please enjoy.

“Hey, Ouma.”

“Yeeees?”

“You say you’re bored all the time, but what do you do for genuine fun?”

Ouma looked up from his school work, then, to look Saihara straight in the eyes. Though, it was not one of those silent, awkward yet peaceful eye stares the two had shared a couple of times in the past -- those eyes had a direct answer. He giggled, “I do whatever interests me.”

“Well…,” Saihara murmured, expecting an answer like that. He had first attempted to try and wiggle it out of the other boy without him knowing, but Saihara himself knew better than trying to sneak a trick question by Ouma. Ouma was the one that snuck the trick questions to him -- it was a curious game of cat and mouse, and Saihara always seemed to be on the mouse end, as much as he wished to turn the tables.

Instead of pushing forward for a direct answer, he simply let it go. It was easier to let Ouma tell him himself rather ask, but there were _also_ times where he’d just answer a question _directly_ … and even so, Saihara would be lost, as Ouma was also the definition of a liar. Ouma twisted Saihara’s pride as an intellectual individual who was working to be a detective, but it wasn’t as if figuring Ouma out was over yet. They weren’t even halfway through their three years together, after all. It had dawned on Saihara again about the way Ouma acted and who he really was as a person, and despite being one of his closest “friends”, he still knew so little about him.

Again, he blurred the lines between honesty and lies, if only to make things a little more interesting for himself. Maybe he did it to make it more interesting for Saihara.

“Yawn. I’m tired of this homework. It’s literally putting me to sleep,” Saihara made a face at Ouma saying ‘yawn’ out loud instead of actually yawning, as Ouma tilted back on the back legs of his chair and put his hands behind his head.

“H-Hey, Ouma, you’re going to get hur--” And just as Saihara predicted, Ouma’s chair lost it’s balance and sent itself, as well as the boy that was on it, into the ground below.

“Yowie!” Ouma snapped, as his head met the ground. He rolled to his side and out of the chair’s slot, rolling on the floor. “Owww, Saihara-chaaan, help me! It hurts!”

“O-Ouma-kun!? That’s enough! Hey, c’mon, get off the floor,” Saihara moved away from the shared table and out of his own comfort to hold out his hand towards the other boy. Ouma sat up and rubbed his head, the crocodile tears beginning, until he saw Saihara’s hand. The detective urged in forward in worriness for his friend.

“Oh, Saihara-chan, you seem all shaken up,” Ouma slyly commented, ignoring Saihara’s aid as he helped himself up. “I’m actually fine, y’know! You should have known I was lying.”

“W-Well, even if you were overacting, that had to hurt on some degree,” Saihara replied, sighing through his nostrils as he remembered what had happened the last two times the two connected hands. Ouma seemed to dodge the whole chance completely… was he _hiding_ something? “You’re okay though, right?”

“Nishishi~ your care is so cute, Saihara-chan. I wouldn’t mind you being my dad! Or, actually, you seem more like a mom, but Tojo beats you by a ton,” Ouma fixed the chair back to it’s original sitting position as he said so, taking a seat again and staring disinterestedly at his schoolwork, which Saihara knew was nearly done. They traversed through it together, and they were only on the last two review questions. “Aw man. And I’m still bored with this homework.”

Saihara sighed at the comment about him being Ouma’s dadmom, but pushed no further into the topic. He knew Ouma was fine physically, but he was still curious about why he wouldn’t take his hand…, “...We only have two more questions, Ouma-kun. We’re home free after that.”

“Yeahhh, but I don’t feel like answering these paragraphs to these stupid questions,” Ouma twirled a pencil between his fingers.

“Okay, well, how about this,” Saihara suggested. “If we finish these two questions… how about we attend tonight’s yozakura together? The school is hosting it in the open-roof garden.”

“Oh, is Saihara-chan perhaps… asking me on a date?” Ouma snickered. “Sorry, Saihara-chan! I see right through your little plan there! This is just a win-win situation for you: I get my homework done, _and_ I can be your little boytoy for the rest of the evening.”

“W-What!? No, that’s not what I--” Saihara began, attempting to defend himself, but Ouma cut him off.

“Nishishi~ wow, Saihara-chan. You just keep surprising me! First you check me out, and now you’re going the next level!” Saihara’s face flushed a furious red, and he honestly wish he wore his cap again as to cover himself, but he remembered the reason he discarded it in the first place was _because_ of Ouma. This guy was much better at getting his way.

“Y-You know that’s not what I mean, Ouma…,” Saihara wheezed desperately, embarrassed by Ouma’s teasing. “Since you just do whatever’s in your interests, I was just wondering if you’d be interested in hanging out with me during yozakura… but if you don’t want to, I can just ask Naegi or Hinata to join me.”

“I never said I wasn’t interested! Geez, running away from me already, Saihara-chan?” Ouma smirked. “I’ll be your little date for tonight. I bet you’re all excited now, aren’t you?”

Saihara made the effort to make a small grin, “Yeah, whatever you say, Ouma.”

 

* * *

 

Saihara had celebrated hanami, and it’s night counterpart yozakura, before.

As much as it seemed Saihara was allergic to pleasantries in the past, he still celebrated some of Japan’s oldest traditions, including shrine-praying and seasonal celebrations. He was close to his family members in this regard, and it was times where he could be stress free -- yet, even so, his mind was still on the logics of it all, and he always considered the historical aspect of these events while they happened. Tonight would be his first time attending with a friend, as well as being free from just _thinking_ \-- all he had to do was enjoy himself.

Still, the fact that Ouma had rejected his hand earlier that day still plagued him. It was incredibly strange -- for someone like Ouma, who constantly greeted Saihara from hugging behind, and who pushed and shoved others in order to evoke a reaction from them. Touching just seemed to be in Ouma’s category, yet he avoided contact with Saihara’s hand completely.

Saihara deduced that the only possible explanation for this had to be the reactions that ignited between the two when they locked fingers. Once it was an electric shock, and another it was ice cold. Saihara also concluded that this only happened when they held hands, even for a slight second -- Ouma had brushed against his ears or cheek when swiping his hat, and hugged him before, but it never sparked a reaction like when they touched each other’s hands. It was strange, and it was weird and Saihara knew that there was only one thing that could have this effect.

The Soulmate’s Connection.

While the two walked in comfortable silence towards the open-roof garden sometime around 8 PM, Saihara thought about how Ouma had claimed he had ten Soulmate’s Connections. If he was telling the truth, then if Saihara was one of his Soulmate’s Connections, then Saihara would have nine others too… which he knew would be false. At least one of these Connections would have been an easily identifiable one, and he had been diagnosed with an unknown Connection his entire life.

Not only this, but he had also figured out that Ouma was lying, too. He claimed that one of his Soulmate’s Connections was not being able to see color, yet, he vaguely remembered Ouma commenting about the “orange light” in a classroom, and knowing what color his precious purple Panta was. And if he wasn’t able to feel cold or heat, then how could he have reacted to the splash of cold that occurred between their hands?

That just didn’t add up, but Saihara didn’t want to notify Ouma about his discovery. He knew it would only complicate everything, as Ouma would add more comments as evidence that needed to be sorted by “lie” and “truth.”

A small fee had to be paid in order to attend the yozakura event, but it was worth the amount considering that the school provided tea, bento and sweet mochi. Ouma paid extra for extra mochi. As the two filled into a table, Saihara could only notice that everyone else was in groups of 3 or more-- which was understandable, considering hanami itself was a time to embrace life and everyone you had in it, and Saihara momentarily regretted not just joining Kaede’s newfound friend group or even inviting Naegi or Hinata to tag along.

Ouma successfully distracted him from this with his bombard of questions, just about random nicks and nacks, and how boring things were for him. Saihara compliantly listened along, considering he was the person that asked Ouma here in the first place.

“Wouldn’t it be fun if there was a game show where people had to kill each other to get out?” Ouma inquired, which Saihara blinked at.

“Frankly, I don’t think that’d be fun at all…,” Saihara said, honestly. What a cruel concept.

“Hmm, I guess you’re right. People can be so soft. It would probably be boring murders anyway,” Ouma yawned, looking up at the cherry blossoms above Saihara’s head while munching on probably his seventh mochi. He had completely ignored his bento, save for a couple of bites of rice and chicken. Ouma seemed to be intent on watching the way the cherry blossoms laid onto each other, and Saihara himself was observing Ouma again.

This time it was involuntary, and by the time he had realized it, Ouma realized it too, “Again?”

“A-Ah. Sorry…,” Saihara mumbled, but instead of allowing Ouma to tease him, he quickly decided to change the topic. “Ouma-kun, could I ask you something?”

“Anything for you, Saihara-chan.”

“Who do you think your Soulmates will be?”

Ouma looked caught off guard with the question, but he quickly bounced back to answer the other, “Oh, that’s an easy one. I bet one of them’s going to a handsome college boy with ruffled hair and glasses! Another will be… a cute, energetic boy with bright orange hair, and who plays a sport. And a white-haired, leading-type girl that’s also part dragon!”

“H-Hey, seriously,” Saihara mumbled, knowing Ouma would answer in such a fashion. “Your answers got more ridiculous as they continued.”

“Awww, but I’m telling the truth, Saihara-chan. You said what I think my Soulmates will be, not what I know,” Well, Ouma wasn’t wrong, but Saihara could hope for a more direct, honest answer. What else did he expect? “Who knows what sort of person they’ll be! Maybe one of them will be a god.”

Saihara sighed through his nostrils, and by the way he reacted (Saihara assumed), Ouma’s expression softened, “Well, how about you, Saihara-chan?”

“Me? Well…,” Saihara thought for a moment. He had considered how his Soulmate’s Connection worked, but in all honesty, he sort of… ignored the real purpose of a Soulmate’s Connection. A Soulmate’s Connection would be with someone who was best fitted for him, his personality, and his interests -- he wondered how this strange phenonenom could pair up people so accurately and easily, just as they’re freshly born. “I guess… I hope they’re fine with my work? I know crime makes some people iffy, and I wouldn’t want my passion getting in the way of our relationship.”

“Boooring. C’mon, give me the spicy stuff, Saihara-chan!” Ouma commanded, and Saihara was stuck in a corning. Spicy stuff?

“What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ , give me things that I wouldn’t expect. Interest me, Saihara-chan. You should know this by now.”

The look of disappointment that painted Ouma’s face, even if it was feigned, plagued Saihara nonetheless. He sighed, and thought, and when he finally got his answer, he replied, “Well… I-I really don’t know what you want from me. I’m pretty basic when it comes to what I like. Y’know, nice, and friendly… someone who can understand and keep up with me.”

“So you really are vanilla, Saihara-chan. Well, I can’t really say I was expecting more: you’re boring in that area,” Saihara couldn’t come up with a retort. “Geez, this Soulmate’s Connection thing stops everyone from pursuing anything romantic themselves. Wouldn’t it be more fun if everyone got to choose their partner, instead of being tied to some person or people since you’re in your diapers?”

Saihara recalled those fictional mangas, and the thing known as romantic heartbreak, “I suppose it could be ‘fun’, and it’s happened in the past before… but everything about the world just seems to be better after all of this. Crime rates lowered, and everyone seems excited about this concept of soulmates. Divorces plumet. It’s just beneficial.”

Ouma peered into Saihara’s eyes, and the two were met with another awkward, peaceful stare. It was then that Saihara noticed the galaxies in Ouma’s bright eyes again, but a realization dawned over him: they were lonely galaxies. Galaxies themselves were large, unexplored masses of stars and chemicals and rocks. Supernovas and black holes existed in them, and many other qualities that man had left untouched. And it was lonely. There was nothing but what was in it, and nobody could touch it -- they were simply too far away, because of all the barriers the galaxy beheld. All the challenges of getting there, and all the difficulties with even ensuring your survival.

The supreme leader broke the contact again, seemingly becoming shy, but Saihara automatically assumed otherwise, “Are _you_ excited, Saihara-chan?”

Ouma refused to lock eyes with him and instead looked at his mostly uneaten bento box, grabbing his eight mochi Saihara watched the galaxies turn away and hide themselves -- hide their secrets, and their loneliness.

Maybe Saihara needed to consult Momota. He needed to get there as soon as possible.

“...I’m really not sure.”

 

* * *

 

A couple more weeks passed by, and Saihara’s curiosity about Kokichi Ouma kept climbing. Suddenly, he was interested in what Ouma’s Soulmate’s Connection was, and how much it mattered to him caught himself off guard. He didn’t understand why exactly he cared so much about what Ouma’s Connection was --

Actually, now he was the one that was lying. To himself, at least. He knew full well why he was so curious.

It was because of that loneliness he realized in Ouma’s eyes. There was something broken in the other boy, and this might have been the reason for all of his hiding -- what it was was still a mystery to the detective, and one he was determined to solve. Something about knowing Ouma for this long, seeing the more genuine parts of him, and maybe experiencing things only they experienced with each other made Saihara want to figure Ouma out more and more. The day that he came to understand Ouma seemed to be many years ahead, and would maybe never come at all, but he certainly wanted to try to figure him out.

He could solve the bigger puzzle of Kokichi Ouma, and he didn’t have to understand what each individual piece meant. Ouma taught him this.

Another thing was very very relevant to him being interested in solving the mystery of Ouma. The walking enigma, and the trickster who hid every part of himself. It was something straight out of a manga, and Saihara was ashamed of living a protagonist’s life. Everything about being a protagonist was burdening, but unfortunately, if one (especially Hifumi) were to find out about his dilemma, no doubt about it would one conclude he was living a life of a main character.

And in this situation, Ouma would be his deuteragonist -- the person he was now the closest too, even topping Kaede, who still provided her support for Saihara. In this strange story right out of a fictional tale, Saihara was flustered, confused, and anxious over the circumstances. But it was difficult to deny his realizations. If this were a story, it would be a story of rebels, and Saihara being one of the largest. Saihara being the main character.

A main character who was in love with his deuteragonist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again for reading ! ヾ(｡･ω･｡)  
> fun facts about the fic: the 777 quick stop i mentioned in the prior chapter is a reference to the 777 shop in persona 5!  
> furthermore, the three people ouma mentions as his predicted soulmates is akira kurusu (persona 5), hinata shoyo (haikyuu!!) and female kamui (fire emblem fates)!
> 
> thank you for all your kudos and comments. i'm so happy with all of the support, and i adore every single one of you !
> 
> i'm not near tired despite the early time right now, but i'll try to sleep regardless. thank you, everybody.


	4. i try to fill it in, you got faith in nothing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> saihara tries figuring out everything about romance: why and how. why was he in love with ouma? how was he in love with him? 
> 
> and why does ouma keep those barriers up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again.  
> thank you to all the people who support this fic, as always ! i know i say it a lot, but words really can't describe how much i appreciate this. i haven't felt like writing in a long time, so the fact that i'm motivated to is something i appreciate a lot. <3 it's all thanks to your guy's positive support.
> 
> i'm so glad i could pump out another chapter this afternoon. i hope you enjoy.

If you asked Saihara why he was in love with Ouma, he would respond with “I don’t know.” And that was an answer that Saihara discreetly disliked.

It was fine to not know some things: you simply had to learn them. This was what school was for. And not knowing was different from not being sure. At least you had some sense of where you stood when you were unsure of something. You were simply hesitant when it came to your answer to a problem or situation. Not knowing was… not having a single idea or clue. It would have been much easier if Saihara was taught the ways of romance in school, or even if he talked to someone at school about it -- inevitably, though, he knew why he chose not to do this.

The Soulmate’s Connection. The damned Soulmate’s Connection.

No one at school would have had dated yet, and if they were, they’d likely be hard to track down, considering the existence of soulmates. The only clue he had to guiding him in this sort of thing was fiction and his not yet deciphered Soulmate’s Connection. Perhaps… perhaps it would be easier to find a doctor and consult them about this, rather carelessly try to find somebody that might not even exist at his school.

Saihara arrived at the school infirmary, eyeing the only occupant in the room: a girl with long, choppy plum hair. Not as dark as Ouma’s,  “Um… hello.”

“A-AH!” She shrieked, and threw her hands and feet up in the air, successfully falling into a quite… suggestive pose. Saihara blushed at the exposure, and quickly rushed to the other’s side.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” Saihara reassured, reaching out for the girl’s hand. “You should probably… get up.”

“O-Oh, I’m terribly sorry! I just, I tumble really easily…,” The girl sighed, taking Saihara’s hand as well as thanking him for his help. “I-I’m Tsumiki. I-I don’t really work here, I-I just… help out during lunch a-and after school…”

“Oh, is that so?” Saihara shouldn’t have expected less -- she wore the school’s uniform, after all. The situation of uniforms was curious at Hope’s Peak Academy. Everyone seemed to freely wear what they wished, while some students chose to don the uniform itself. The school didn’t really enforce the dress code… which was why Saihara found himself more comfortable in his usual clothes. “T-Then, sorry about bothering you. I’ll just be on my way now.”

Tsumiki stuttered an “alright” as Saihara took his leave. He knew he’d likely need to consult a real, professional doctor if he wanted to have his Soulmate’s Connection to get examined again, or come after school to consult the school’s actual doctor. Something in himself, however, wanted to solve this case by his own knowledge and intellect -- it was _his_ life, and all a doctor could tell him was his Soulmate’s Connection. It wasn’t even guaranteed that they would know what it was, exactly. But his visit to the school infirmary was not for naught -- he had received a vital clue while there, helping Tsumiki.

When they locked hands, he felt nothing but her grip.

So, the only person he had felt this strange sensation when touched with was Ouma. He was not affected by it with Tsumiki, a stranger to him, so the only other option was that it might happen with people he knew. He asked for Kaede’s help, which she happily agreed to comply with. When they held hands, again, there was nothing but grip.

Saihara collected his information when he let go, “So, there’s nothing between strangers, and there’s nothing between people I know…”

“What’s this even for, anyways?” Kaede inquired -- she had not asked Saihara why he wanted to hold her hand before it happened, because she was aware that what Saihara wanted was nothing malicious or bad. It would positively be for a good reason.

“Ah, well… I’m just trying to figure out my Soulmate’s Connection. I’ve been finding and sorting out clues, lately,” Saihara simply explained, hoping Kaede would not find out it was because he was in love with Ouma.

“Really? How so? Are you starting to become color blind, or did a timer appear on your wrist?” Kaede bombared him with these questions, and before Saihara could answer, she beat him to the punch. “Wait… if your Soulmate’s Connection appeared just recently… Saihara-san, is your soulmate really going to be sixteen years younger than you?”

“W-What? No, no,” Or at least, he hoped this wasn’t the case. Having your Soulmate’s Connection appear past junior high was an extremely rare case, but it was still _possible_ … “I’ve just been experiencing some strange phenomenons is all. I may just be closer to figuring it out.”

“Ah, well, I’m happy for you!” Kaede cheered, giving Saihara a thumbs up. “Did you know the school treats students that have a Soulmate’s Connection with each other to a vacation together during the weekends? You skip class on Saturday and spend all of Sunday off on some pretty island.”

“Why would they do that…?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Because it’s a special thing, Saihara-san,” Kaede smiled. “I know you’ve hid yourself in the dark about it, but it’s a lot more amazing than you expect. I can’t really say this _firmly_ , since I haven’t met _my_ soulmate yet, or at least, I haven’t figured them out… but according to my parents, it’s one of the greatest things that’s happened in their lives.”

Saihara thought about the concept of romance, and furthermore, his own love life, “I’d assume. Although, fiction sort of exaggerates romance to this very important thing… sometimes I wish we didn’t have to worry about it. It sort of plagues me...”

Kaede nodded, listening along to Saihara’s opinion of romance. She called out, “Saihara-san?”

“Yes?”

“You say that fiction exaggerates romance… but I wonder why you’re suddenly interested in your Soulmate’s Connection, after avoiding it for the past year,” Kaede said, yet there was a soft smile on her face.

“Saihara-san, are you in love?”

 

* * *

 

His reaction was an instant “No, I’m not. Just trying to figure out myself, this time.” and he excused himself from the conversation quietly while mumbling about his homework. He really just didn’t want to admit the truth about it to Kaede.

But why was that? Why was he ashamed, or moreover, _afraid_ of admitting he was in love with Ouma, when he knew this was what being in love felt like (at least, according to the odd increase of romance novels, articles, and other evidence from before the Soulmate’s Connections were a thing). And why he lied to her _face_ \-- well, half-lied at least. The second part of the excuse was the truth. (Ouma was certainly rubbing off on him…)

...Ah. He had figured out why: again, it came up. The Soulmate’s Connection.

Saihara was still not sure if Ouma had lied about having ten Soulmate’s Connections, but he was leaning to the side of a lie. Yet, this did not mean that Ouma didn’t have at least one Soulmate’s Connection… being in love with him, with this new system, was rebellious. Daring. Defiance against the positive impact this phenomenon was making… and again, came the main character comparison.

Being the main character sure was hard.

And then there came the question: _why_? Why had he fallen in love with Ouma? A person that frustrated countless people, tormented others, and blurred the lines between honesty and falseness… and he was in love with him. A detective, in love with a liar. Could it be the same reason to why Ouma was interested in him? Because he was interesting?

Ouma was interesting in a way that Saihara couldn’t quite put his finger on -- he frustrated him too, sometimes, but it was never enough for Saihara to claim he hated him. Not at all. Because, again, there were times where Ouma wasn’t just a child: there were times where he proved to be someone much different. Sometimes Ouma, of all people, could be the voice of reason. He could be the one to straighten someone up with his blunt comments, when they weren’t coated with a lie. And he was smart.

Saihara discovered that, to be as cunning as Ouma was, you must have had to be intelligent. If Ouma was actually an idiot, there was no way he could fire back comments, whether they be truth or lies, as quickly as he could. In fact, it was harder to lie than to tell the truth -- after all, you had to come up with something that seemed plausible, and even if it wasn’t, there had to be no evidence to back it up otherwise.

Of course, sometimes Ouma’s lies were easy to see through -- others were much, much more difficult due to his own distancing. The biggest enigma of them all was his Soulmate’s Connection -- and if Saihara was his soulmate. If Ouma would only tell him the truth, then he could possibly figure out his own Soulmate’s Connection, and he’d find out once and for all if what they felt when they touched was connected to the phenomenon.

But Ouma liked to play around and mess Saihara all up, always keeping him on his toes as a detective. There was mystery in every corner of Kokichi Ouma, and Saihara knew that this was his favorite mystery to solve, as difficult as it was. Because it was not only a way of getting to know Ouma, learning how he lied and how to see through them, but figuring out if what he felt for him was even true or would even get accepted.

After all, fictional heartbreak was described as painful enough. Saihara didn’t want to experience it himself.

Still, as much as he could have strayed away from Kokichi Ouma -- hung out with Kaede and her friends, or even spend time with Naegi or Hinata -- he chose not to. He jumped the risks of having his heart broken. He chose to run down paths of theories and assumptions that mostly had dead ends, but he never felt like stopping. These never felt like obligations. They felt like desires. Desires sweeter than the sickening amount of sugar that Ouma added to his iced coffee, mid-June.

“Can you really not stand bitter stuff, Ouma-kun?” Saihara asked, trying his hardest to restrict himself from gagging at what he assumed to be Ouma’s tenth pack of sugar entering the iced coffee. “Why didn’t you just get a Panta or something…?”

“Cause I wanted to match with you, Saihara-chan!” Ouma chimed, which evoked a blush that Ouma thankfully didn’t see under the 5 PM light radiating into the school’s cafe. Saihara, who liked his coffee darker, sipped quietly to hide more of his blush. The things that Ouma said were affecting him more and more, something he was warned about in his research. “... Just kidding. I didn’t feel like drinking a Panta. I already had three today.”

“Ah, alright…,” Saihara murmured, sipping more of his coffee. He was reminded of the date today: June 20th. The day after would be Ouma’s birthday (he knew because he had checked Ouma’s information on the student electronic handbook, and had set it up on his calendar the winter of his first year,) but Ouma had surprisingly not commented about it. For someone who was always embracing exciting holidays, it seemed as if he wasn’t excited about his own birthday.

His student handbook read that he liked carbonated drinks, but Saihara was sure that anyone who remotely cared to give Ouma something for his birthday would think of getting him a 2 liter bottle of Panta. So that was out. He had to try and wiggle something out of him again, “Ouma-kun… I know you think I’m interesting, but is that the only reason you hang out with me?”

“Huh?” Ouma hummed, the question seeming to be out of nowhere. Ouma thought for a moment. “Mmm… yeah. You entertain me, Saihara-chan, more than other people! It gets boring after Kiibo keeps saying I’m a robophobic, and I get tired of people constantly calling me out for things I say that may or may not be lies.”

“W-Well, if you’re tired of that, why don’t you just stop?”

“Stop? Nishishi~ no, it’d be _super_ boring if I did that,” Ouma sang. “But Saihara-chan’s different about it. You don’t automatically assume everything I say is a lie, which is quite the bold move, my beloved… after all, you don’t even know what’s true about me and what isn’t.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Saihara agreed, as he laid back in his seat. “...But it interests you, right, Ouma? That I continue to trust you on some aspects?”

“Nishishi~ expected from the Ultimate Detective! You’re right. And that’s the truth,” Ouma chuckled, taking a hearty sip of his coffee. From Saihara seeing him grab another pack of sugar, he assumed he still wasn’t satisfied with its flavor. “I’ve never had that happen before, Saihara-chan. Lots of people give up easy. That’s why people are weak.”

Saihara held no comment as he processed that information. No one had ever chosen to stick along with Ouma? Ouma continued, “...Oh, but that’s a lie. The ‘never happened before’ thing. I’ve had tons of people worry over me in the past! I was real popular around my school… that’s why I have so many people in my secret organization!”

“Ah, is that so?” Saihara responded, watching Ouma’s eyes. Most of the time they were barriers, blocking his soul, and the truth, too -- other times did he catch those galaxies that he longed. And the rarest occurrence of all was Ouma flashing him the slightest dose of doubt about any of his comments -- that his lie could be exposed. As he got to know him more, Saihara was able to catch these glimpses at an easier rate, but it was difficult considering Ouma kept those barriers up most of the time.

He wondered when Ouma’d let him in. Ouma snickered, “Yup.”

They sat in that silence again. _That_ silence. This time, Ouma turned his eyes away from the detective in favor of the window right near the two’s seats and table -- admiring the courtyard that was directly next to the cafe. Hope’s Peak Academy was booming enough to have a dining hall and cafe -- certainly, Saihara was lucky to have gotten it’s attention. However, he deemed himself _more_ lucky for continued to believe in Ouma, instead of giving up.

Like Ouma had said, people were weak and submitted to their conscious and beliefs easily. It might have been a lie from Ouma’s mouth, but Saihara didn’t think of it as entirely false -- he could understand why Ouma would deem humanity as weak and easy to give up, especially on people like Ouma himself. After all, children were warned not to lie and make friends with those who did -- not to make connections to those whom which their conscious deemed “bad.” Those who deemed people “bullies,” and giving them the amount of chances that their conscious could stand.

Somehow, Saihara had managed to stand Ouma and his personality for this long, and he could certainly keep going. It made him proud, even if it may have been a lie, to know Ouma thought of him in that regard differently compared to everyone else.

Saihara observed the other for a little longer before deciding the pull out his book. It was an occasional thing that the two shared -- they’d simply sit with each other and read, something that Saihara was surprised Ouma enjoyed from time to time. Granted, Ouma read manga compared to Saihara’s only-text novels and articles, but it was still something that willed Ouma to sit still and relax for a while. It was nice. Ouma was beginning to pick up on a manga that was about volleyball -- something Saihara saw him read now and then.

Saihara was on the dilemma of birthdays now, flipping to the pages talking about birthdays with your significant other. What sort of birthday present could he give Ouma, if all he really knew he liked was manga and carbonated drinks? Sure, his knowledge of Ouma’s interests extended to knowing he liked sweet things in general, but that was practically it for ground knowledge. It had to be something that interested Ouma, and something that Ouma would cherish…

“Whatcha reading, Saihara-chan?” A sing-songy voice asked that sourced from behind him, and Saihara was caught off guard enough to nearly throw the book out of his hands and onto his coffee below, which would have been a mess.

“N-Nothing!” Saihara squeaked, hiding the book’s title from Ouma, but he already knew he messed up -- Ouma would be curious, with his fidgety behavior, and there was no way he’d let it go until he got his way.

“Lemme see, Saihara-chan! Pleeease!” Ouma cried, and eyes were suddenly on the two. Saihara knew full well that it would only reduce to Ouma bawling out crocodile tears and yelling for someone’s help, and he still wouldn’t stop pestering him about the book. Saihara sighed, embarrassingly, as he lifted the book from hiding and handed it to the supreme leader. “Aha! Thank youuu~”

Ouma skipped his way towards his own seat, opposing of Saihara’s and opened the book up to the page which Saihara had his thumb in to keep his spot, “Let’s see if Saihara-chan’s reading some sweet porn!”

“O-Ouma!”

Ouma snickered as he let his eyes trace over the words, as his sly grin slowly burned into a softer form of amusement. Saihara’s face burned into a larger shade of red, “H-Hey, c’mon, give that back…”

Despite his weak pleas, Ouma kept on reading, and his smile became one of a thin line, like he was slowly getting less amused as he continued. Eventually, Ouma stopped reading altogether in order to look up at Saihara, who was sure he had the reddest face on the planet. A silence, but this time, it was awkward. Not peaceful. There was something wrong about the situation, and the air around them.

Ouma then broke out into an unexpected yawn, nonchalantly handing the book back to Saihara, “Geez, Saihara-chan. I didn’t know you liked such boring books.”

“I-It’s…,” Saihara began, but shut his mouth. It was better to keep as quiet as possible about this, as if he got Ouma curious, he’d have to expose himself right then and there. “S-See? It’s nothing you’d be interested in. Just… boring.”

“Right right. I said that already,” Ouma leaned back, and looked up at the ceiling, particularly at nothing. A few seconds of awkward silence again (Saihara couldn’t stand how he had to label it as that, and not peaceful), before Ouma stood up, manga in hand, the other occupied with his iced coffee. “I’ve gotten bored of this, Saihara-chan! I’m gonna go bother someone. See ya~”

Saihara would have reached out for his hand, but Ouma’s were full. Full of things that would only distance themselves further, and Saihara was sure he was that much closer to figuring out Kokichi Ouma. After all, the way he reacted to the book and it’s contents were… strange. Saihara expected a much bigger reaction, like, “Wow, you read this stuff? You’re such a pervert, Saihara-chan!” but was gifted with the exact opposite.

Disinterest.

Now, why was that…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading ! (´ω｀★)  
> i honestly love all of the little connections and theories you guys have about how the story will play out. it's honestly so, so fun.
> 
> per usual, thank you for your kudos and comments ! i wish i could reply to them instantly, but school must come first. regardless, i'll always try to reply to you, since that's the least i could do for your kind words.
> 
> i might just go to sleep now. thank you so much !


	5. i don't know why you're shooting in the dark.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> saihara loves, loves, and loves.
> 
> all ouma does is shatter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again.  
> i'm sorry about not posting last night ! i didn't want to push myself to write. i didn't exactly know where i wanted to go from that point of the fic, but i finally decided on this to extend the plot a little longer. oh boy.
> 
> if you're curious, i tend to update this fic from 5-6 PM PST ! but sometimes i post in the middle of the night. i try to update every chapter with a minimum of 3000 words.
> 
> on a side note, to all those who wished me good luck on my exams, i did great! i think i was really motivated by all of your support. now enough about me. i hope you enjoy this chapter of the story.

It took a ridiculously long time to pull it off, but Saihara had successfully gotten the first part of his present for Ouma’s birthday. It was a decision that was difficult to make -- after all, this was part of one of his most prized possessions -- but he understood that these sorts of things were things that people in the past, who were not connected to the Soulmate’s Connection, did for their loved ones. Loved ones whom they were not sure even loved them back. That was what fleeting teenage love was like, according to all those old story books and articles.

There was story upon story about the ups and downs of a relationship that was unassured. Breakups, and get-back-togethers, and a whole lot of drama that honestly sort of made Saihara a little ill to hear and read over and over again. Yet, this was what it was like without the Soulmate’s Connection, and Saihara had  _ purposefully  _ chosen to do this for himself. He knew this.

Which was why, despite his initial uncomfortableness with all this lovey-dovey, fleeting romances, he’d learn. Some of the points made in the more gaudy stories were actually fairly valid. Like how that certain person made your stomach churn, and you always wanted to protect them from danger. You try to get close to them, and they may expose all of their softest secrets to you, even if you are not yet lovers. It’s the scene where, one shows everything one has to bare, and the other tells them it’s perfectly fine to be the way they are… and then they kiss.

They kiss.

Kissing wasn’t exactly on Saihara’s train of thought about romance. It was a back-of-the-mind thing. People did it because they loved each other, but he had failed to see anyone his age but the teenages in those manga kiss. And it wasn’t supposed to be one of those friendly, greeting kisses that one would use with simple acquaintances and other people of knowledge -- no, it was a kiss on the lips. Those sorts of kisses were praised as the most romantic.

He never thought about kissing Ouma. When he realized he was in love with him, he wanted to do more… soft things. Like Ouma laying his head on his shoulder or lap, or them holding hands under the table during class gatherings. Those small, little, stupid things. Like nice strolls together down a cherry blossom path, and stargazing at night. Cuddling under the sheets while talking about the crimes Ouma would come up with, and him staring, with his bright, big galaxies, waiting for Saihara’s answer to how he’d start off investigating the case.

The last one was sort of a thing he and Ouma did, starting that year’s April. Ouma would set up a crime scene (whether it be theft, murder, assault… it was always different and always varied, and Ouma never set up the same scene twice,) and Saihara would take the time to analyze all of the clues and figure out who had committed the crime. It was always someone in their class, to make everything easier -- sometimes, it was Saihara himself. But that just made things interesting, and the two had genuine fun playing the game.

The thought of kissing the boy he played this game with caused his heart beat to raise, as he took the small ornament he was able to gather and head over to Iruma. With some convincing (it was easier to convince Iruma compared to Ouma. Since Ouma was such a hard case to crack with these sorts of things, other people were easier to figure out,) Saihara was able to lend Iruma the item that night. The one he’d eventually give to Ouma the morning of his birthday.

That night, Saihara had a ludicrous dream about being a world-famous detective, chasing after the most famous trickster thief, “Purple Pop.” He had managed to corner the thief on a museum’s rooftop.

“Nishishi~ so it’s just us now, is it, Saihara-chan?” The Purple Pop sang, bearing a voice quite similar to a certain boy he knew of. His head was adorned with a white top hat, and the rest of his dramatic outfit shared the same color. Despite how much he stood out in the dark, he was still like a shadow -- apparent, but never grabbable.

“You’re not getting away from me, Purple Pop,” Saihara shot back, ignoring the Purple Pop’s statement. “I’ve spent the past year tracking you down. I know about your secret organization, and I have seven of your members hostage. Come with me, and I’ll spare you from getting hurt.”

“Is that so?” The Purple Pop stated, his voice flat of his merriness after Saihara’s explanation. “I see. Hmm. What to do. Steal the chance to escape, or steal back my team mates...”

Saihara hoped that he’d be much more caring for his organization members. As the Purple Pop then began his steps towards the detective, Saihara voluntarily set out his handcuffs for him, “Come on. Let’s go.”

“--or,” The Purple Pop began again, ignoring the cuffs and instead caressing Saihara’s cheekbone, his fingers slipping under his chin. “I can steal  _ you _ , my beloved detective.”

Saihara easily became flustered with the comment. The caressing of his face certainly didn't help this case whatsoever, “Wh-What?”

“You heard me, my beloved detective,” The Purple Pop cooed, stepping even closer. Saihara didn't back away. “In return, you can do anything you want with me. All I really want is to steal your precious little heart… if I did, I won't need to steal your life. I'd  _ be _ your life.”

The Purple Pop’s gloved, white hand traced Saihara’s heart, fingers moving over his shoulder, and suddenly he had both of his arms around the detective into a tender hug, “But it's not like I have to. You've spent the last year stuck on me, huh? In a sense… I've already stolen your heart.

“Although, even after you've chased after me and made catching me your life… I still want more than this cat-and-mouse game,” Ouma admitted, a sense of genuity in his tone. “But don't be mad at me, my beloved detective… it's difficult to not become selfish when you have someone as wonderful as you chasing me around. Even if you did catch me, our game would eventually end, and I'd lose your heart… I don't want that, Saihara-chan. I want to keep playing with you, always~”

Saihara felt like he was melting.

Of course he knew that many of the Purple Pop’s words could very well be simple lies in order to toy with Saihara’s feelings, but that tinge of genuity hit him home. He felt… compassion for the thief he had been chasing for the last year. Like there was a reason for the continuous pursue. Like there was more than keen cunningness of the ability to get away, and a deeper purpose. Of course Ouma wanted to evade getting caught, but Saihara seemed to be the one he lagged behind for, compared to all the others forces keeping an eye on the thief’s doings.

“Your… your lies don’t work with me, Purple Pop,” Saihara began, yet he didn’t back away from the gentle hug his enemy gave him. The thief’s chin rested delicately on his shoulder, and the purple hair that poked outwards tickled his own cheek. He had never saw the area around of his eyes due to the luxurious white mask he wore as well, but those eyes were unmistakable. “Listen… I’ll keep playing your little games if you just come with me.”

“Awww… you say it like you aren’t all excited. But I can hear your heartbeat, Saihara-chan… I could just nearly snatch it up…,” The Purple Pop cooed, and Saihara lost even more of his composure -- still, he was trying. “And you don’t need to call me that stage name, my beloved… I’m sure you know what my real name is.”

Saihara hesitated. Then he spoke, “Just… let me catch you. Let me figure you out. Let’s just… let’s stop running from each other, Ouma Kokichi.”

“Nishishi~” Ouma giggled, and pulled his head away from Saihara’s shoulder -- hug still intact, fingers locked behind the detective’s back. “Only my detective Saihara-chan would ever find my name out. Not only that… but say it so lovingly, too.”

Ouma smiled, and through the mask Saihara only saw his galaxies. Now, he felt as if he could touch them. They were there, open, to explore. So he did. He leaned down, towards his face, and explored.

Ouma did the same.

 

* * *

 

When Saihara awoke, the time read 6:59 AM. Just one minute before his alarm, in which he promptly made a haste to shut off before blaring into his fragile, post-sleep ears. Saihara was honestly hoping, which was a rare thing, that Ouma would wake him up himself or be there when he arose, but unfortunately, he had either skipped out on this or was simply too late. However, Saihara would be glad that Ouma wasn’t there for his wakeup call -- his manhood had it’s own wakeup call for Saihara to deal with.

His dream wasn’t even erotic! Unless kissing on a rooftop was considering hot, but with the amount of sexual occurrences he researched (keyword researched, and none of it was for his own pleasure...mostly), he doubted that just making out with Ouma while his escape helicopter hovered overhead, under the bright moonlight, was arousing.

After taking care of his morning wood (answering nature’s call didn’t help, and Saihara was frustrated with that), Saihara hurriedly washed his hands and changed into his clothes in order to dart all the way over to Miu Iruma’s lab, where she slept about 90% of the time. By the time Saihara arrived, Iruma was already up and at work on some strange looking invention.

“Good moring, Iruma-san,” He greeted firmly, not trying to scare her as she screwed on a bolt to the odd looking machine. The inventor glanced over his shoulder and sneered, 

“Mornin’ Shihara,” Iruma replied casually, Saihara ignoring the offensive use of his own name. She stuck a thumb towards her work desk. “Your pin’s ready. Addin’ just a needle and stopper was so damn easy that it actually hurt, so I polished it up and shit with it.”

“Thank you so much, Iruma-san. You’re the best,” Saihara smiled as he made his way over towards the inventor’s desk, spotting the pin from a mile away. Iruma cackled as she said something along the lines of agreeing with his compliment (plus her own vulgar words), as Saihara pulled the pin up to a better light.

It was the star that was etched into the side of his hat, the comfort object that he had held onto for as long as he had wanted to be a detective. The only mark left of the star in Saihara’s hat was it’s outline, a darker black than the rest of his hat considering he had abused it beyond it’s use for those many years. And now, he had decided, he’d pass it down to Ouma -- if he ever wanted to get the star back on, he was sure convincing Iruma to do it wouldn’t take much effort at all.

Admiring more of the cleaning and thanking Iruma again, Saihara set out to… well, he actually had no clue. It was still fairly early in the morning, and Ouma was the biggest enigma when it came to where he was every second -- he was always moving around, going from person to person, so Saihara could always wait around somewhere to catch him. But the chances of that were slim, considerings Ouma was quite literally everywhere. Leading it all up to chance was risky, so it was better to track him down.

Saihara asked around the school if anyone had seen him, and if they did not recognize his name, Saihara tried his best to describe his appearance. No one had seen him in his pursuit, and he was sure he was wandering around for a good thirty minutes asking strangers (something he wouldn’t normally do under normal circumstances) for someone that might not even be awake yet was starting to become noticeable.

The detective tracked down Ouma’s room, and took it upon himself to knock. He waited for an answer, and there was none.

“I wonder where he is…,” Saihara wondered out loud, pulling out his phone to text him as a last resort--

“Where who is?” Ouma’s voice popped up suddenly, and Saihara nearly screamed in the hallways where some were still sleeping their summer holiday away. His hand went instinctively to his rapidly beating heart to try and calm himself down.

“O-Ouma, you scared me…! Don’t just sneak up to me like that!!” Saihara scolded, keeping his voice low so that he would not disturb other students. Ouma sneered at him, seeming to be offended by the way he reacted.

“Wow, I thought you’d have a better reaction. You’re becoming like everyone else now, Saihara-chan,” Ouma yawned. “So, whatcha doing in front of my room? ...Did you want to  _ spy  _ on me?”

“N-No, I wasn’t. I was looking for you, Ouma-kun,” Saihara simply admitted. It was best to be truthful with him in the long run, as trying to lie to someone who could very well be the Ultimate Liar was like trying to outrun the world’s fastest runner.

“Reeeally? For me? Saihara-chan, I’m flattered!” Ouma smirked, fingers locking behind his head in order to support weight he tossed backwards. “...No, not really. But anyways, what did you need from me?”

“Ah, well… today’s your birthday, right?” Saihara asked, and Ouma’s smirk fell from his expression. Arms that were prior held behind his head, now dropped limply to his sides. The sudden change of emotion and atmosphere was one Saihara noticed almost immediately.

“Mmm… yes. It is,” Ouma mused. Saihara wondered why he didn’t choose to lie about it, but it was probably because there was no way to lie himself out of that one. He knew that he knew via the student electronic handbooks. Despite his change of expression, Saihara tried to do Ouma’s job here and smile towards him -- today was supposed to be a good day.

“I brought you something as a birthday gift,” Saihara explained, taking out the pin from the breast pocket of his jacket. Ouma stared at it, eyes that he blocked from emotion just mere seconds ago glinting with curiosity. “S-Sorry about it… um, since I don’t really know what you really like, I thought I’d give you something of some sort of value to me. You’ve been… a good friend. I hope you like it.”

Saihara gently handed the thought-out present to the supreme leader, who studied it at every angle with his wide, wide eyes. There were no nebulas in it this time -- they were like screens, scanning the object he had been given. After some silence, Ouma scrunched his eyebrows, “Actually… I  _ hate  _ this.”

The words caught Saihara off guard, and he felt his heart plunge into his stomach. What…? He  _ hated  _ it? He knew that Ouma never sugarcoated things much, but at least he could of lied and said “gotcha!”, but he didn’t. That sounded like the straight and solid truth, and there was absolutely no hesitation in those words. All Saihara could peep out was a breathy, “Wha…?”

“I hate this. What a stupid present!” Ouma grimaced, and tossed the plastic star onto the ground. It bounced a little before falling to its stop, as Ouma didn’t take a moment to stop and think as he lifted his leg, smashing the gift under his heel. There was a cracking sound that was hard to miss. “I thought you knew me better than to give me something so dumb. See, it’s even made of plastic! Geez, Saihara-chan! You don’t know me at all!”

As Ouma twisted his foot, as if to rub how much he disliked the present even more into Saihara’s face, the detective’s own visage was drained of all color. This… was this the sort of feeling you got when you rejected? That rock-hard feeling in your stomach, and the mix of emotions you felt? Not only did Ouma hate the present, but he made a valid point about it. Why did it matter if it meant something to  _ him _ ? It was Ouma’s birthday, and he should have just played it safe with mochi and Panta.

It had dawned on him then that he had never told Ouma that he was the real reason to why he stopped wearing the hat in the first place. Ouma didn’t know why Saihara gave  _ him  _ the star specifically -- in fact, to Ouma, Saihara understood why he hated it so much. A pin was boring, and it meant absolutely nothing to him since it wasn’t interesting. Nothing that didn’t interest Ouma was kept by him. He should have known this, he should have known…!

What a dumb, dumb detective he was.

Ouma lifted his foot off of the pin to reveal an obviously damaged item that once belonged to something so dear of the other. He humphed, “I thought you really knew what I liked, Saihara-chan. Even after a year, you still haven’t come up with anything. Geez. You really are just  _ boring _ .” And with that, Ouma kicked the pin to the other side of the hall as Saihara stood in dead silence. The leader entered his room and loudly shut the door.

Saihara was now in silence, but not with Ouma. He was in solitude, but not the way he liked it. He was left, brokenhearted and twisted and beaten from the rejection of a love that the other didn’t even know of. So this was what it was like, huh? The feeling he feared so much, and the feeling he hoped on his hands and knees he wouldn’t experienced was tossed right into his face and by the worst person you could have tossed it by. There was nothing but emptiness, a hole to where Saihara’s heart was. The detective stiffened his jaw to try and keep himself from crying, paying no bother to the star as he hastily left the scene of the crime.

The crime of a stolen and shattering of a heart.

(Quietly, a door opens, and a plum headed boy dressed in white surveys the hall. No one watches as he scurries towards the broken object. Swiping it up, he returned to his chambers, and cried for himself.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ouma-kun why do you have to be like that (*´_ゝ｀)  
> i love reading your guys' reactions to how the story is slowly playing out. i promise that everything about ouma and the way he acts will be explained, though i'm mentally preparing myself for how it'll BE explained... considering ouma probably won't straight out say it. but as a certain someone says, "you don't have to say 'i love you' to say 'i love you'"~
> 
> thank you for your comments, theories, kudos, and well wishes !! i feel so supported by you guys and i love working on the fic because of it. i'm starting to take time away from my friends just to write ... but i'm doing fine everyone.
> 
> thank you so much for your continued positivity ! please expect more chapters !


	6. we've never had somebody, so we don't know how to love.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> darkness and light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again.  
> i wanted to update this as soon as possible after that really sad prior chapter. i'm so sorry for all those who wanted the fluff -- it's coming, don't worry ! all of the angst is very temporary and very necessary for the way this'll carry out.
> 
> as always, i hope you enjoy.

The books he had read, both fiction and nonfiction, were scarily accurate to how he felt.

Saihara was never very good with describing emotions, as describing things were generally reserved for all of his work-related doings. Emotions weren’t something he really had to look into past the psychotic reasons for murders and mass shootings -- that was only necessary to find out their motives. Saihara himself never really considered his own emotions, because he rarely felt anything in a large portion.

He was a generally calm and levelheaded individual that didn’t get too excited, angry, or overstimulated by anything. A detective had to work well under pressure, or at least act like it in order to keep the peace. Although Saihara had faced several instances of having to be the only clear-headed individual in a room, it was nothing compared to this. There was no possible _way_ he could be levelheaded about this.

And it was such a dumb thing too.

Was it because he was influenced by all of this stupid manga? Was it because he didn’t exactly know his Soulmate’s Connection? Did _Ouma_ plan all of this from the beginning, knew every single step that would lead up to this moment? At this point, there was quite literally nowhere he could go -- there were only dead ends. Previously he would have taken a breath, muttered an “alright” and went to find another, but this time, he dropped.

Leaned against the shadows of the dead end and stayed there, too distraught about where he was in life.

He understood how he’d likely deem someone acting this way as petty, but he wouldn’t ever be able to fathom the sort of pain they were in. _This_ was the pain. His mind was too distorted with all of the questions that bombarded him, from why he got rejected to why he even let himself fall in love with Ouma in the first place. Saihara didn’t understand why it hurt so much, too -- he didn’t reject him as a love interest, he simply rejected his present.

But the way he had done it was just… horrifying. It was an over-the-top reaction that Saihara wasn’t expecting in the slightest, even though Ouma was prone to over-the-top reactions. It hurt because it was chillingly _real_ , and Saihara was back at square one with trying to figure out Ouma. He still remembered the poison that was Ouma’s eyes -- which were once galaxies. At the time, then, when he dramatically destroyed Saihara’s gift, there was nothing but toxin.

Toxin and… cloudiness.

Saihara was too dazed to think about it. He felt stiff and lost in his doings -- all he felt like doing was… sleeping and thinking. Thinking about what depended -- it varied from his Soulmate’s Connection, to what the weather was like today. On the day of Ouma’s birthday, after that ordeal, Saihara stayed in his room for the entire day, too embarrassed, ashamed, and upset to even go outside when he was hungry. It would be fine. He wouldn’t starve.

The day after, he awoke a little after 10 AM. There were no signs of disturbance in his room, like he had the slimmest hope for before falling asleep -- it meant that Ouma would be, or at least, would have been there. Saihara sighed when he woke up that morning, surveyed the room, deduced this, and decided to go back to bed and force more sleep upon him to ignore his stomach. He proceeded to wake up two hours later, his calling for food reminding him every other second with a large growl that bothered him to no end.

There wasn’t anything to do but satisfy it, as much as he wanted to keep in his room. Saihara got dressed, slowly, and eyed his hat -- the star, handled off. _No, don’t cry again_ . This time, the detective picked up the comfort object and fitted it right back onto his head. It was like a reassuring hug -- but it also felt _mocking_ . Like a voice saying, “I knew you’d fail and come crawling back to me.” _No, don’t cry_ …

Saihara managed to properly mentally prepare himself and avoid the eye contact of others much easier with the hat covering half of his face. A good thing. He hastily made his way towards the dining hall, bought a small package of gyoza and bottle of oolong tea, and rushed his way back to his dorm, successfully avoiding gazes and only muttering small “hey”s under his breath when others greeted him. He really did feel like he was just crawling back into the shell that Ouma had worked so hard for him to crawl out of. Saihara unloaded his stash onto his desk, and unashamedly ravaged all of the items.

He had originally planned to eat just one of the dumplings and a small bit of the oolong tea so he didn’t have to go out again, but it seemed as if he got a little too carried away with the possession of food. Regardless, he was full now, which meant his body was satisfied. He felt sinful for abusing himself like this -- submitting to sloth and gluttony because of what he had done to himself. It wasn’t Ouma’s fault -- it was _Saihara’s_ , for choosing to go down such a risky route. He chose to jump, and he failed to be caught. It was his fault he was falling. It was _his_ fault… it was all his fault he was a terrible mess. But he had no mental strength to pull himself up again and bounce back -- there was nothing that seemed to interest him more than sleeping and trying to forget.

The hat he had worn was back onto the still of his bed’s headboard, and he was already back in his sleeping clothes (worn and needing a washing, stained with salty tears), until he received a text. Lazily, he checked. Kaede.

Kaede: Hi Sai! ^_^ Where r u?  
Saihara: I’m in my room.  
Kaede: Oh? Studying more?

Saihara sighed. He had to come up with some sort of excuse for this sort of behavior, otherwise Kaede would have come over immediately to consult him. It was better leaving her out of his problems.

Saihara: No. I’m just planning on taking a nap. I was researching since 7.  
Kaede: Oh, k. Well, if you ever want, me n hinata n naegi are together at the cafe !  
Saihara: Thanks. If it’s a reasonable hour when I wake up I’ll text you if you’re still there.  
Kaede: Alright. Have a nice nap, Saihara! ^_^

Saihara left her on read, assuming that was enough for Kaede to know that he had acknowledged it. But Saihara could care less at that moment -- he tumbled into his bedsheets, pulled the covers onto himself again, and slept… or at least, he _tried_ to. His body, after that trip to the dining hall, seemed to be wide and awake, as much as his mind wanted to go to sleep. Unfortunately, Saihara was far too hungry to consider that a possibility, and now he was stuck.

He tried pacing around his room, trying (and failing) to focus on reading another mystery novel, and even taking a warm shower. Unfortunately, all of these activities only allowed his body to think as if he was being productive as usual. Muscles now itching to be used, Saihara soon got bored in in the confinement of his room -- despite all the cases he could be studying or books he could read, none of it could seriously take his mind off of… everything.

A walk would be fine, but a walk where…? There was nowhere he could go that wouldn’t remind him of Ouma.

Ouma.

Ouma.

He missed him, and he hated accepting that. But that was the only thing that was prominent enough that was the truth: he _missed_ him. Having nothing exciting for him to look forward to, to deal with, and not having anybody to constant take their interest in him… well, that only proved Ouma’s point even further. He _was_ a boring person, and that might as well be the biggest insult Ouma could give Saihara. The leader had convinced him it was true with the destruction of the star.

Saihara mentally prepared himself, again to exit out of his dorm room as much as he didn’t want to. Even though he told Kaede he’d join her, Saihara really didn’t feel like social interaction at the moment, especially with people who’d be able to tell he was or had been upset. Snugging the hat back onto his head and buttoning up his jacket again, a knock on the door rang throughout the room.

Well, he was already dressed, and he was sure that nobody would be able to tell that his eyes were tied with how darkly he dressed in general, so there was nothing to lose…

Saihara approached the door, and pulled at it gently, “Ah, yes--”

His heart nearly leaped into the ceiling, broke through it, and could have landed on the moon for all he knew. All Saihara could feel was just about everything in him leap at the sight of Kokichi Ouma, standing blank faced in the open doorway, “Hi there, Saihara-chan.”

“W-W-W, h-h...wha…?” Saihara stuttered, words literally disappearing from his mind as he continued. There was no possible way he could muster up a proper sentence at the presence of the other.

“Could I come in?”

All Saihara could do was slowly nod, as Ouma calmly nodded back, making himself comfortable in a room he had seen plenty of times already as if it was his own. He made straight for Saihara’s open dorm room, obviously taking in the darkness (the curtains were only slightly opened) and the general distraught that the room held. A vague scent of dumplings still held, replacing the usual scent of fresh cleanliness.

Finally, Ouma spoke, “Wow, Saihara-chan. You changed a lot.”

Saihara couldn’t quite deny that. Now that Ouma had appeared, it was like he was slapped across the face -- _hard_. Harder than Momota’s punches. Saihara smelled the lingering scent of his meal, eaten in his room -- the disorganization of his desk and bookshelves, his sleeping clothes laid lazily across a loveseat. His bedsheets weren’t made, and the room just had this… melancholy about it. Even the most ignorant of people could sense the depression practically dripping off of it.

Ouma looked towards the bed, and silently began to make it neat. Flustered at his unexpected act of cleaning, Saihara rushed for himself to open the blinds, and began to make his desk neater until--

“Saihara-chan. Come here and sit with me,” Ouma called out, softly, as Saihara looked over his shoulder from straightening some papers. The leader had taken some comfort in the bed’s edge, sitting just as he usually did. The afternoon light from the large window poured in behind him. Saihara’s heart pounded, and he could only obey.

Ah, that awkward silence. But it wasn’t just awkward, thank god. There was another feeling in the air, which was not exactly pleasant, but it was there. The knowledge of there being something that needed to be said. The knowledge that Ouma was there for a reason.

“Why…?” Saihara managed to croak out after several more minutes. He was a complete mess, one could tell -- his jacket and pants were wrinkled, and under the hat his hair didn’t look to be in the best condition. What Saihara meant by ‘why’ as ambigious -- he didn’t even know himself. Just... _why_.

“...You know, there’s some things even the smartest people can’t figure out,” Ouma replied, silently sighing. Saihara could tell this was a situation in which he wasn’t the most comfortable in, but hell if he was making an effort. The boy managed to turn over to look at Saihara. “...Saihara-chan, I thought I told you how much I hated that hat! Did you forget…?”

“W-What? Oh, no, I… I didn’t,” Saihara removed the cap from his head and stared at the outline of the star. He was shot right at home, and remained silent, even though he knew that Ouma was trying to lighten up the mood.

“...Saihara-chan. Look at this,” Ouma pleaded softly, again, and Saihara glanced to where Ouma was pointing. His scarf, just at the edge, on a white checker. There, planted straight in the middle of it… the star. Saihara’s star. “I fixed it~”

This was just too much.

“Y-You…,” Saihara started, and soon gave up. It was just… too difficult to process everything right now, and too difficult to speak. Everything was just happening too quickly, and there wasn’t anywhere he could start where he was sure that he’d end up at the truth.

“...Hey, Saihara-chan,” Ouma began again, after quell fell between the two and all Saihara did was stare at the pin, now shining brightly on his signature scarf. “You know I only lie to entertain others… it just keeps everything interesting, yeah? ...But there are other reasons people lie. Sometimes you need to lie to reach the truth, and other times, it’s the protect yourself…”

Saihara’s gaze moved from the star to Ouma’s eyes. There were no galaxies, no barriers, no screens or analyzations -- just Ouma. It was just Ouma.

“I’m made up of about 70% percent of lies, y’know? I’d practically be a different person if I didn’t do it, nishishi~” Ouma chuckled, nearly sorrowfully. “Sometimes even _I_ don’t know what’s lie and what’s truth when it comes from my mouth. It’s a fickle thing… but I can tell you, Saihara-chan, that the way I treated you was… was absolutely a lie.”

Saihara’s eyes widened. A lie? He was… he was acting? “But… why would…,” Ah. He was still at a loss of words.

“You’re so precious to me, my beloved Saihara-chan. I hope you know that. Which is precisely why I lied to you~” Ouma chimed, and Saihara was still confused. He made such a big deal about insulting his present because he cared?

“But… but why…? You... really hurt me, Ouma,” Saihara mumbled, looking at his hat once more before placing it beside him, away from between him and Ouma. “There’s time where lies aren’t funny anymore… it gets to a point where they do the opposite than your intentions.”

“Ah, I know, I know. I’ve known for a long time it’d happen. It’s just… it’s something I never really experienced before, Saihara-chan. This is the truth,” Ouma laughed a little at his own comments, even though nothing about it was funny. “No one’s _really_ taken the way I’ve acted seriously. You’re the only pitiful one, my beloved Saihara-chan.”

“Ah…,” So it was true, what Ouma had said in the past about nobody really caring for him. That nobody had really taken the time to stop and try and see past his lies… “...I still… I still don’t understand why you did all of that with my pin, Ouma. You say it’s because I’m precious to you… what do you mean by that?”

“It means that you’re my most prized treasure, Saihara-chan,” Ouma put simply. “And we criminals go very far for our treasures.”

“Very far…?” Saihara mumbled. He was still so, hopelessly, confused. “Ouma… could I ask you something?”

“Go ooon.”

“Please… could we please just… be honest with each other. Just… just for right now. I need to know why you’ve done all of this to me, Ouma… otherwise, you’re just tearing apart the thing you call your most p-prized treasure,” Saihara couldn’t help but stutter and blush at the last part, but he wouldn’t stop now. “So… I don’t want to see all of the real you, Ouma. I still want things to figure out about you. I just want to see… 10% of the leftover 30% of you that isn’t lies. I want to know… why, exactly, you did what you did. Could we… could we do that…?”

Ouma seemed to be processing this deal in his head, as the two simply stared at each other, all eyes. Against the light of the afternoon, in the dorm room that was once filled with the brim with darkness -- now, there was some hope that shone in the room, and some light to be shed on the darker parts of the each of them. There just needed to be this talk, and Saihara was sure Ouma knew that it was needed too. But if he were to throw in lies, and make everything more complicated, and confused the hell out of Saihara more than he already had, then--

“...Okay, Saihara-chan. But you better ask some good questions! And not all of them! ‘Cause if you ask bad ones, I’ll just have to start lying~” Ouma’s voice sang, and that all too familiar smile curved onto the leader’s face. That smile… the one he adored so much. The one that could only belong to the boy right in front of him, and the smile that taught his own mouth to do the same from time to time. He admired Ouma in many ways, from his cheeriness to his intellect… well, those were just two reasons to why he loved him, answering one of his millions of questions about this whole situation. With the perfection of how this was all playing out, and reading manga, it took Saihara all of his strength not to just dive in and kiss him right there.

“Alright. Thanks, Ouma… I really…,” What? Really what? Why did he just say that? Ouma waited for a response, and Saihara had to come up with one, soon-- “I really… I really appreciate it.”

There seemed to be genuine disappointment in Ouma’s eyes when Saihara finished that sentence, but he didn’t acknowledge it in his reply, “Yes yes. I’m just happy I get to be with my beloved Saihara-chan again… y’know, it was real lonely being away from you for a whole day. Everyone just wants me to go away or their reactions are just rinse-and-repeat. That’s why I love being with you.”

I love being with you.

“Aha… right,” Saihara nodded. “Now… let’s get started with this conversation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE THE JUICES ALL OF YALL ARE THIRSTING FOR ... i'll Quench Your Thirsts.  
> i lied about saying ouma wouldn't say stuff directly (he's rubbing off on ME now). i think that there'll be a point of ouma where he actually knows when lying genuinely hurts the people he cares about. after all, a lot of his lying is just to entertain / protect others. he is a very complex character in that regard and i apologize that this was the way i had to play it out ;_;'' how ouma fixed the pin and stuff will also be revealed next chapter. many many many things will be revealed next chapter.
> 
> thank you all for your kind wishes and comments and kudos ! please continue your support. i appreciate every single little thing.....!!!


	7. i could fix the broken in your heart.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a talk about everything honest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again.  
> this has had to be, by far, the most difficult chapter to write! i had to consider a lot about how ouma would act in this "honesty game." sorry about the late posting -- school projects must unfortunately come first.
> 
> i hope you enjoy it, you guys ! you're in for a treat you've been waiting 6 chapters for.

Saihara could tell that Ouma was certainly trying to tell the truth and not shroud his answers in lies.

He started with a simple question. After all, it wasn't Saihara's intention at all to cause Ouma anxiety over a little honesty. The detective asked, firstly, how he managed to fix the precious little pin -- after stomping on it (and Saihara’s feelings, but Saihara chose not to say that), it seemed beyond Ouma’s own pair. The leader snickered.

“My care for Saihara-chan fixed the pin, nishishi~” Ouma obviously was playing around, meaning the question wasn't considered good. That was fine -- as long as it wasn't heavy… Ouma realized that this was supposed to be an honest conversation, thinking until admitting. “...Actually, I had that ugly, stinky, blonde bitch fix it.”

“Ugly…?” Saihara had to think for a moment before the answer came to him. Oh, obviously… but didn't they have a wrecked relationship? How was Iruma convinced to help Ouma? ...Nevermind that. That was the pure answer and it was better to preserve Ouma’s fresh honesty and not get selfish. “Ah… okay.”

“You know… I knew this pin came from your stupid hat before I saw how it is now~ I was always keeping my eye on it when you still wore it,” Ouma chimed, kicking his legs to excite his muscles. “If we're both baring it all… why did you stop wearing that hat, Saihara-chan? You stopped ‘cause of me, huhhh~?”

Saihara couldn't help but burn up at the assumption. It was wrong to underestimate how smart Ouma was, but there were also possibilities of him just shooting in the dark and hoping to hit a target. The other also made a good point of this conversation being fair, “Actually... it was. I mean, I probably overthought it and connected it to you, but…”

Wow, explaining all of these embarrassing feelings was much more difficult than he expected.

However, Ouma momentarily reacted in a very new fasion -- a tint barely dusted his cheeks and just as quickly as it came, it went away, “Nishishi~ aww, I'm so flattered, Saihara-chan! I think I might just cry!”

“D-Don’t cry…,” Saihara pleaded, less out of desperation and more out of tiredness. “But we agreed to be serious about this. I was being serious.”

Ouma once again stiffened, and he had taken a moment to process this information once again. Murmuring under his breath, there were obvious signs of hard attempt not to lie, “I see…you got me there.”

Saihara decided they needn’t go further into that, as a lot of this concerned about how the detective felt for the other. No, this was simply them being honest with each other, but not completely exposing themselves -- that was the fun thing about their relationship. There was always something to try and understand, figure out, and put together. Each of them was a puzzle to the other that both couldn’t quite solve. This exchange was sort of like… the puzzle putting a fraction of itself together.

The two proceeded to just… talk about normal things. Saihara started it up first, because everything about showing each other their sensitive and hidden parts made the air around them stiff. They went back to simply talking about crimes Ouma may have committed (Saihara agreed that this part of the conversation could be made up of fun little fibs which only made things more interesting for the both of them), and putting out crime scenes for Saihara to investigate and solve. Saihara unconsciously glanced at the clock -- they had talked comfortably like that for an hour. Ouma seemed to be in a good mood again.

“Hah… hey, Ouma-kun,” Saihara called out, catching the attention of the other boy. They had stopped sitting with their legs dangling over the edge of the bed and were now sitting criss-crossed in front of each other, comfortably on Saihara’s mattress. “I… I want you to know that… I really… appreciate you. The hat thing that we brought up before, well… I suppose the reason why I decided to stop wearing it in the first place was because of your influence. I know you hated the hat, since you always made _that_ clear… snatching it off of my head… but I guess all of those times made me realize something.”

Ouma leaned in slightly, intent on listening. His eyes were no longer galaxies -- they were simply stars. Big, bright, beautiful stars.

“T-That, um… I can’t stop avoiding the stares of others. I can’t stop hiding away and being ignorant of the people and things around me. When I first came to the school, I didn’t even know how to have a good time without worrying about it,” Saihara shifted, looking away from Ouma’s gaze, which was still fixated with what looked to be wonder at him. It was far too embarrassing. “You showed me that there’s much finer points of life. I was too worried about my credentials as a detective, finding out the truth of others’ opinions of me… I didn’t… I guess I didn’t know how to live much. Your nature towards me had been forceful in the beginning, but… in the end…. I’m just… really glad. That… I met you.”

Ouma’s mouth frowned, but his cheeks tinted similarly to Saihara’s own -- the detective acknowledged that he had successfully flustered him, even for a moment… he would treasure that expression always. Ouma caught his composure quickly, “Nishishi~ you think waaaay too hard about things, Saihara-chan, even about me. I just wanted to mess with you all this time. I didn’t know you took things that seriously.”

Saihara shrugged, accepting this as the truth. It was true he overthought things, usually to his downfall, but he was sure this was a good sort of change.

“...When we first knew each other, at least,” Ouma continued off, and Saihara’ attention was caught again. ‘ _When we first knew each other_ ’...? “I won’t tell you that _all_ of that is false… you’re just as I expect, Saihara-chan! So intelligent. You were able to figure me out, even by a little bit.”

He had figured him out.

It may have been just two pieces in the whole, entire puzzle, but the puzzle itself had acknowledged Saihara’s good work. Saihara’s pain, and how much he worked and observed -- Ouma had noticed, and not only this, but Saihara had also uncovered a little of Ouma’s own intentions. Both of their heartbeats arising, Ouma continued, “Okay, okay! I’ll admit… I wanted you to have more fun, Saihara-chan. After all, I was having soooo much fun playing with you~ it would be pretty selfish of me if I didn’t decide to give back. But were pretty much all anti-fun, and I deduced it was ‘cause of that emo hat of yours. So I tried prying it off of you. I was pretty glad when you permanently took it off~ after all, my beloved Saihara-chan looks much better with his whole adorable face in view!”

Saihara tried his damndest to conceal his blush from arising, “R-Right, right… well… I appreciate that, Ouma. I’m sorry if I was difficult with you. Now I’m just… really glad that you’re my... friend.”

The last word came out in a soft mutter, but Saihara smiled as he said so, just so Ouma wouldn’t try and tease him about it or call him out for sounding sad. Yes, yes… even though they were baring everything to each other, this didn’t include Saihara’s crush on the other. This was just about the pin, and why Ouma had smashed it dramatically, and--

Wait… yeah, that was what he was forgetting.

“Ouma-kun… could you… tell me why you smashed that pin, now?”

Ouma’s face fell, as if he was dreading the question. He leaned back, away from Saihara, and there was obviously a lot of thinking that was happening in Ouma’s head -- he stared blankly, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and his right jaw clenching by just a centimeter. A silence fell over him, but it was a regular silence -- not awkward or pleasant or like there was something in the air. Like there was something that was here, now, and there was no way it could escape out of its corner.

“...Saihara-chan,” Ouma started. The words fell, carefully thought, out of his mouth. “...Do you think I have ten soulmates?”

Saihara’s own eyebrow furrowed. What? Why did he need to know the answer to that question? Well, if Ouma had thought so long and hard about it, it had to lead to something. The question was… did he think he had ten soulmates, connected by the Soulmate’s Connection? Well, no…, “Frankly… I don’t. But I can’t say otherwise… I don’t know what your Soulmate’s Connection is.”

“I wonder, huh?” Ouma sung, and he tried to sound merry -- but the next thing that escaped his lips could only sound melancholy. “Why… I wish I knew too, but there’s no lie in the world that can change the truth.”

What?

… What?

“H-Huh? What do you--”

“Saihara-chan, y’know, your voice makes me sad,” Ouma sighed, keeping up a now sorry smile on his face. Sorry for… for what? “If I had the ability, I would steal that voice away all for myself…”

“Ouma… I don’t exactly know what you mean,” Saihara’s expression hardened. This was the first he had ever experienced a genuinely sad sounding Kokichi Ouma, and he absolutely hated it. “Please. Just tell me directly.”

“This is _so_ dumb,” Ouma claimed, voice tinged with anger -- yet this seemed to be front, too, as it was quickly dropped with a low murmur under his breath. Words only meant for Saihara to hear. “...I don’t _have_ a Soulmate’s Connection.”

Ah… ah?

Huh?

What?

“You don’t…,” Saihara repeated, the words falling out of his mouth. But that didn’t make any sense… if that was the case, then why did he feel those strange things when he and Ouma held hands? “W-Wait… then…”

“It seems like you take too much time to figure things out for yourself, Saihara-chan~ that’s not very detective-like of you. You always have to use your resources!” Ouma declared, boldly, contrasting from his personality prior. It was probably to make up for his lack of enthusiasm.

“My resources…?” Saihara parroted.

“Oh, but, that’s okay… you don’t have connections like I do, Saihara-chan. I’d understand why you don’t know…,” Ouma simply put, looking away. “Well, upon _my_ information, a small group of babies born seventeen years ago from different parts of the world, one in each continent, was found with a very special Soulmate’s Connection!”

“Special…?” Saihara repeated, once more. What did Ouma know that he didn’t? That concerned not Ouma himself, but Saihara?

“Mhm. Top secret information, buuuut I was able to dig dirt up about it, Saihara-chan. Babies born with this Soulmate’s Connection had the ability to gift someone with a Soulmate’s Connection -- at the cost of said person becoming their soulmate,” Ouma’s explanation continued. This all just sounded like a huge made up story of his, but… “And I think… that you’re one of those special people, Saihara-chan.”

“What…?” Saihara managed, at the end of it all. This all sounded way too ridiculous to comprehend… and how did Ouma know all of this, but he didn’t? Why had he been hidden away from his own Soulmate’s Connection? Was it because of the power to choose their Soulmate’s Connection? “T-This isn’t a lie, is it, Ouma?”

“Mmm… I wonder,” Ouma chimed, and Saihara gave him a look that sent the signal he really wasn’t joking. Ouma sighed. “...Well, the dramatic stuff is false. But I _did_ find out about a special Soulmate’s Connection while I was on the internet… it’s a pretty recent story, too, so while you were being emo, I was researching.”

Researching…? Saihara’s own body leaned forward, interested in what Ouma had to say, “Then… then tell me the truth, Ouma. If you know something that may be my Soulmate’s Connection… tell me.”

Ouma thought about this for a little. He loosened up, and let it all out. “Welll… some girl in Europe met a boy without a Soulmate’s Connection. Her doctors had identified her Soulmate’s Connection as unknown for her entire life! But by the small touch of their hands… all sorts of strange stuff happened. It felt shocking to touch, cold, hot, soft, leathery… all sorts of things. She touched riiiight where his heart was,” Ouma pointed at his own heart. “And the boy felt real weird. Turns out the whole thing was her choosing the non Soulmatey as her soulmate. Pretty cool, huh? There was a tattoo heart where she touched him on his chest, and one on her palm as soon as she lifted it. That’s totally a Soulmate’s Connection!”

Saihara took a moment to gather all of this information. This was recent, so he doubted that he saw it for himself in the past… and if Ouma was being truthful…, “Ouma… you’re telling the truth, right?”

“This time, yes,” Ouma simply responded. “I think that’s what Saihara-chan has. The special Soulmate’s Connection touch!”

“Ah… really…?” Saihara murmured, looking at his hand. It was just as plain as ever, yet, he felt so much in it when he held hands with Ouma. He timidly looked into his eyes. “Ouma… could I see for myself?”

“Nishishi~ asking to touch me, Saihara-chan? You’re a pervert,” Ouma accused, and Saihara offhandedly smiled. He smiled because he knew that Ouma would say yes. “Alright, fine, fine… but if it hurts, I’m telling Tojo! She’ll kick your ass!”

“Right, right,” Saihara chuckled (the first he had done in a while). Ouma raised his hand, expecting Saihara to take it. The trust that glinted ever brightly in Ouma’s purple irises shone right at Saihara’s own eyne -- it was a gaze that he loved to be under. A lot of Ouma’s stares and looks were nothing but enigmas to him. The ones that weren’t were the ones he typically liked the best. Carefully, Saihara took Ouma’s palm, and squeezed his fingers around his dainty digits. What a reassuring feeling it was, to hold Ouma’s hand -- what they experienced felt like soft cushion, like sinking each other’s fingers into a pillow.

“Eugh… this feels weird,” Ouma admitted, yet he didn’t let go until Saihara did. After that moment, there was quiet.

Ouma was taking his time to really examine Saihara right then and there, and Saihara was gathering all of the information he knew in order to figure out all of this. His newfound information of his possible Soulmate’s Connection, the way Ouma reacted to the pin, Ouma’s reasons for befriending him and his reasons for continuing to be friends with him, and his research into Saihara’s own Soulmate’s Connection.

“...Ouma-kun,” Saihara called out to him. Ouma blinked, locked eyes with Saihara, and gave him all of his attention. “Do you… do you not _want_ to be my soulmate?”

“Hmm…,” Ouma hummed, toying with a strand of his hair. That hum only increased Saihara’s anxiety -- if he said yes, that meant that his feelings for Ouma were already crushed before he even confessed! The good thing about that outcome was that he could move on and the two could still be friends… but… “...I wonder about that, Saihara-chan. Do _you_ want to be _my_ soulmate?”

Saihara shivered, and could only look away from Ouma’s gaze. Well, of _course_ he wanted to say yes… but would that be the correct answer? How on earth would Ouma even react to such a comment? Saihara skimmed through possible answers, until one stood out to him -- the truth. The cold hard truth. After all, Ouma wasn’t exactly asking him if he liked him romantically… just if he wanted to be his soulmate.

(Who was he kidding. Being soulmates was the most romantic thing that could happen to you.)

“I-I… wouldn’t… um… _mind_.”

Oh gosh. That voice crack, and the stuttering, and the loss of composure really didn’t help anything about this situation. But the truth was out now -- Saihara really didn’t mind in the slightest if Ouma was his soulmate. In fact, he’d be overjoyed… but just as it was for Ouma, he wasn’t going to expose everything about himself right then and there. Ouma’s face was blank, his lips parted slightly at the answer, cheeks smudged a light red. He pulled his hands behind his head, stretching.

“Nishishi~ well… I wouldn’t mind if Saihara-chan was my soulmate, too,” Ouma teased, and his voice dropped to a lower hush. Mumbling, he added. “But… I didn’t think Saihara-chan would want to be soulmates with me. Now… do _you_ mean that, Saihara-chan?”

“Is that what it was about?” Saihara asked, everything becoming clearer now. Of course… of course! Everything about it all made sense! The acting, the dramatics, the disinterest in soulmates… “You… you were trying to get me to hate you, weren’t you, Ouma?”

“Nishishi~ once again, you’ve found me out, Saihara-chan. You’re growing into such a good detective,” There was no emotion found in the smile he flashed him, like he was expecting everything about how Saihara felt to end right there. Like their friendship was at the guillotine, and Ouma had accepted his fate. “I’m guessing that didn’t work much? You got all emo. Don’t worry, Saihara-chan~ I only did it to protect you. After all… I’m the leader of the biggest evil secret organization! It’d only be dangerous for you to be my soulmate… so when I realized that there could have been a point in which you’d touch my heart, I snapped right back! Snap!”

“So that’s how it is…,” Saihara mumbled. Ouma had purposefully tried to hurt him, just to get Saihara to hate him… because… “...it’s not that you didn’t want me to be your soulmate. It’s that you... don’t think _you’re_ a... good enough soulmate... for me.”

The sad undertones of everything only forced Ouma to smile again, turning his body and beginning to uncross his legs, preparing to hang off of the side of the bed,  “Ding ding ding! You’re so good at this now, Saihara-chan! I might have to stop playing this honesty game. Seeing you figure stuff out left and right is getting boring. So I--”

“Ouma,” Saihara stated, stern, which certainly caught the other’s attention. He turned his gaze to Saihara, still seated on the bed, and what he saw was something he didn’t expect at all -- anger and sorrow in Saihara’s eyes, all in one. “Don’t… don’t go. Please stay. I don’t … I don’t want you to keep running away from me!”

Ouma’s eyes widened at the sudden raised tone, “Why, I’m just--”

“Ouma, no,” Saihara kept him still with a grasp of his shoulder -- a touch that Ouma didn’t expect at all. Saihara wasn’t a violent person, and he seemed to keep his hands to himself all of the time -- but now, Saihara’s mind was alert with only one thing -- _stay_. Saihara’s arm relaxed, but he kept it on the boy’s shoulder. “You’re… you’re definitely good enough for me. It’s bad for you to assume how I feel.”

Ouma couldn’t help but blush, trying to keep himself as much as possible, “Saihara-chan?”

“Especially since you don’t know that I… that I…  
That **I love you**!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ﾉ^ω^)ﾉﾟ NOW KIIIIIIIIIIIIISS  
> lol but really... what a difficult chapter to write. i hope you guys liked it and are satisfied with how things are playing out right now. more treats will be next chapter~ maybe even the final chapter? and then an epilogue and side story (cause... 10 chapters!)
> 
> as always, i love reading you guys' comments and replying to them!!! every single kudo is appreciated. i hope you will continue supporting the story.


	8. you're worth saving, darling.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> saihara wants to fix what's broken about ouma.
> 
> ouma wants to fix what's broken about saihara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again.  
> ohhh boy. i wanted this chapter to reach 3k without transitioning to a new scene, so there's a lot of drawn out descriptions and scenes! due to the weekend this chapter is out earlier than usual.
> 
> unfortunately this fic is almost at the end of its life... there'll probably only be one more chapter after this. but let's not get sentimental now. i hope you enjoy reading.

He could see feelings and rain inside Ouma’s eyes.

The feelings were many incomprehensible, as they danced across a spectrum of many different emotions. It blurred Saihara’s ability to clearly see and he was blinded by how much of a reaction was left solely to his eyne. The leader’s jaw slacked, eyebrows raised, and the most apparent thing Saihara could conceive from that stare was the scene of rain. Why he saw rain was something that was beyond his knowledge -- it was pretty rain. Rain itself was sad, it trickled down your windshield and forced you to stay inside, but it had the ability to bring hope and happiness.

Flowers outside were watered. Puddles formed for splashing children. A fresh scent spread across all forms of flora, and whenever Saihara had to come out of shelter (whether it be to go to the store, examine a scene…), he never thought much of it, like all other beautifuls of life he had just so carelessly ignored. The rain in Ouma’s eyes were different than anything he had ever had to opportunity of traversing in.

There was happiness, and there was sadness. Riddled into his irises, bursting out of his pupils. Beyond all the ways emotions showed themselves through those windows, Saihara could practically put his hand out and feel the water trickle on his fingers.

And so he did. A drop fell on his palm.

“O-Ouma?” Saihara questioned, snapping out hastily of his daze. The detective’s fickle hand was placed on the leader’s cheek, cupping it gently -- the trial left behind by the tear reflected against the sunlight peering through the windows next to them. “I-I, sorry… I didn’t mean to offend you. It sort of just… slipped out…”

Saihara traced Ouma’s face with his own eyes, trailing over the young features and large, beautiful, rainy eyes. He was still in what looked to be a state of shock. Saihara danced across the crease in his eyebrows, the small pimples hidden behind strands of his hair, the plump and not particularly dry or wet lips that still hung slightly open. It once again took a lot of strength in his being to resist kissing Ouma there -- there was no confirmation he would enjoy it.

Ouma finally mustered up a proper response, much to Saihara’s thankfulness. Silence was nice, but if it was too much, in such an anxiety-inducing situation…, “...No. ...Don’t tell Saihara-chan this… but… I think I love you too.”

Saihara could easily tell the thrown-in part about keeping it a secret from himself was just to stall his words. After all, the last several words tumbled out so softly, like he couldn’t quite believe he was saying it -- Saihara was in the exact same position. Despite this, Saihara couldn’t help but feel like his stomach was beginning to bubble with euphoria. And other feelings, like relief, like thankfulness, like  _ love _ . Bubble like the way Ouma’s Panta was poured into a bigger glass, ready for consumption. Bubble like the way that Ouma would blow soapy liquid into a wand, and produce child-like spheres into the sky. Bubble like the way Ouma always was, compared to someone like him.

Saihara’s lips curved into a smile -- softly, as his heart rate rose to a speed that one wouldn’t be able to keep up with, “Ah…”

There was the silence again, after. Now, what were you supposed to do when you confess and they confess right back? Saihara had read countless of romance advice novels from the pass, mangas that painted the picture of a different, more complicated universe where you purposefully chose your partner and how you felt about them… it was always something like a hug, or a kiss. Most usually the latter.

The stillness in the room felt right. The afternoon sun, beaming off of both of their faces felt right. The way Ouma beautifully examined Saihara’s own face, and how Saihara’s hand was still clutched, not tightly, onto Ouma’s arm, as if letting go would allow Ouma to slip away and escape out of his grasp just like the many times before. Saihara began to think, in this wonderful situation of silence, what he should do --  _ should  _ he kiss him? Did he need to ask permission? Would Ouma hate it?

Ouma scooted closer to Saihara. Neither said anything. Saihara’s knee, still crossed, touched Ouma’s waist -- there was undeniable closeness between the two, and if someone were to walk in right then and there, they would have several questions. But the only one who had the ability to walk through Saihara’ door was Saihara himself (and Ouma. It was always Ouma.) Nobody would come and interrupt their perfect moment -- to mess it up and wreck havoc.

“Saihara-chan…,” Ouma called out, the mischief back in his voice. Saihara didn’t mind this. He sort of missed that all too familiar tone anyways. “I won’t leave you all alone. So you can let go of me, y’know.”

_ I won’t leave you all alone. _

Saihara released as soon as that was said. Ouma stayed true to his word -- he didn’t move a muscle, other than turn to put his gaze onto Saihara’s closet, which had surprisingly become very interesting. Saihara himself continued to sit in that silence after nodding to Ouma’s comment. The detective knew, however, they couldn’t sit like this forever -- he had to do… something, “...Ouma-kun.”

“Hm?”

“...Thank you,” Saihara breathed, and that caught Ouma’s attention enough to look his way. There was no more rain in his eyes -- only because Saihara chose to make eye contact with Ouma’s cheeks, now stained what could be a permanent pink against his pale skin. “For… everything. I think… no. I know that you’re the one who I… I learned the most from in the past year. You taught me so many things… how to have fun, and live life… and love. E-Especially that last one.”

Gods, this was so, so embarrassing. But the form of Ouma’s smile encouraged Saihara to continue.

“B-Because… love… I thought it was this thing we felt with our family and our passions, until we met our soulmate. I had no idea how I’d come to  _ love  _ someone else… I-I guess… I guess in a way, you stole my heart and threw me in a love grinder,” The joke caused Ouma to giggle, but he said nothing, indicated Saihara to continue. “C-Cause… you know… love isn’t this disposable, useless thing that one can feel instantly. It took me a long time to… be in love with you. In a sense, I began to love you because you loved parts of me that I thought were just as regular as any other person. ...You cared about the parts of myself that were ordinary.”

“But Saihara-chan, you’re not ordinary at all!” Ouma chimed out, and Saihara’s attention was captured to his own words. “It’s cause you’re in love with  _ me _ ~ aren’t I right?”

“Well… if loving you makes me so out of place, then I guess being out of place isn’t the worst thing ever,” Saihara smiled, and Ouma’s own fell in replacement for redder cheeks. “Love… love is something that… we all were taught would eventually come to  _ us _ . That’s just the fate that the Soulmate’s Connection brings forth. I could imagine how  _ lonely  _ you felt, Ouma… I never hung out with you out of pity. I hung out with you because  _ you  _ wanted to hang out with  _ me  _ \-- and in the end, I’m still fascinated by you. You still teach me things and open me up to so many different opportunities. It’s you that taught me that love is… is making sacrifices, and moving forward. It’s not this disposable thing that’s like every other feeling in the world. It’s something special that I feel about  _ you _ , and you  _ only _ . And there’s parts of you, and life, that I  _ still  _ don’t understand… and I want to figure out. With you. Can… can I do that?”

Another soft silence played between them. Another record that they both seemed to enjoy, but at this rate, the next day would have carried over. Regardless, Saihara let Ouma think and process everything -- all of this would have likely been heavy on someone who grew up without a Soulmate’s Connection. Saihara could… could save him. Save him from all of the tragedy, despair, the loneliness… he would be there. He would trust him. He would love him.

Ouma must have acknowledged this too, as he laughed, “Nishishi~ well, who am I to say no to such a nice offer, and from my favorite detective -- no, favorite  _ person  _ \-- too!”

Saihara involuntarily sighed out of relief, releasing a pent up breath he wasn’t even aware he was keeping. To think, that even in such a situation, Ouma still wanted to keep playing around, to entertain Saihara, and to make him smile… well, he couldn’t resist now. Saihara allowed the smile, but he hoped dearly that Ouma got the message that it was not out of his lies… and instead of the happiness that he had just granted him.

“Okay, Ouma,” Saihara nodded, and took a moment to think. Well, now was a better time then ever… “U-Um… since we’re doing this… could I call you Kokichi?”

Ouma’s eyebrows raised, and he couldn’t help but put on a mischievous little smile, “Ohooo~ my beloved Shuuichi-chan already wants to call me by my first name? You’re so hasty. Let’s take it slow.”

“B-But, you just called me by  _ my  _ first name!” Saihara called out, and Ouma laughed back at his comment. Well, the reason why now was obvious, but the call out sort of slipped out of Saihara’s conscious.

“I was lying, Shuuichi-chan. But let’s make this a fair game, huh? I get to call you Shuichi,” Ouma sang, scooting back on the bed and even closer to Saihara, to a point if he leaned only several inches closer, Saihara would pretty much be cradling him. “And you’ll have the honor of calling me Kokichi~”

“Y-Yeah… okay… I can do that. It’s a promise,” Saihara fumbled over his words solely because of the closeness the two were sharing right then and there -- now Ouma was the one that was going a little fast, but it’s not like Saihara minded… “...Kokichi.”

“Shuuichi,” Ouma repeated back. There was another giggle that escaped those lips. “Nishishi, this is  _ so  _ weird. Our names end the same way. It’s like we’re nearly the same person!”

“Well…,” Saihara mumbled, starting to trace the outlines of Ouma’s face again. There was just so much yet so little to look at, that Saihara could stare at it for days and never become bored. “We don’t have to be the same person… but we can be soulmates.”

“You really mean it, Shuuichi-chan? I think I might just cry!” Ouma squirmed, and Saihara couldn’t help but shake his head.

“No, seriously! ...If I have the Soulmate’s Connection you’re talking about… we can always ensure our relationship is stable. And that we can be together for a long time,” Saihara explained swiftly, so he didn’t have to get all embarrassed all over again. Ouma swished his head side to side, thinking about it before stilling his movements and smiling acceptingly at his now lover.

“Mmm… well, if Shuuichi-chan wants to be with me that much, then I don’t think I’d mind. Jeez, you’re so clingy,” Ouma accused, and Saihara rolled his eyes. If anything, Ouma was the clingier one out of the both of them, and the both of them seemed to embrace and acknowledge that. It was just another one of Ouma’s silly lies and fibs and flops -- it was something Saihara just had to withstand. He didn’t mind that at all, of course.

“...Okay then. Um… all I have to do is put my hand on your heart, right?” Saihara thought out loud, as Ouma suddenly shifted his whole body to lay down across Saihara’s lap. Ah, their first intimate touch, and Saihara was cradling Ouma like the baby he was. The detective let out a surprised huff when he did all of it -- still surprised by Ouma’s forwardness. He certainly took no hesitation, like Saihara had expected of him.

“I wonder. It looks like you’ll just have to try it out for yourself!” Ouma sang, as he rose his scarf’s position up to expose the area of his chest where Saihara knew his heart lay. The detective had to adjust this newfound position, holding Ouma’s neck in a proper position with his arm and the other flowing freely for what he was planning on doing. In all, however, he couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious of the full view that Ouma received -- but what was there to lose? Saihara got a full view of Ouma, too.

Saihara took the comment as an agreement and consent. Ah…so this was it, huh? The moment that would mark whether or not Saihara’s Soulmate’s Connection was to gift someone else, someone as lonesome as Ouma, the ability to love without any restrictions or social expectations. Someone who was obviously so lonely enough to be able to lie through his teeth, uncaring of the initial feelings of people around him, and who shrouded himself in absolute mystery. It mesmerized Saihara to a desirable point.

The detective, driven by wanting to know the truth, raised his free hand towards the area uncovered by Ouma’s scarf -- just as he was to place his hand on his chest, he hesitated, remembering what Ouma had to say about this transfer, “W-Wait… didn’t you say the boy felt strange while it happened? ...What if I hurt you?”

You could tell Ouma was waiting just as much as Saihara was for this moment, and when he hesitated and stopped, Ouma let out a groan of displeasure. Despite this, he smiled at Saihara’s consideration, “You care so much about me, my beloved Shuuichi-chan! But don’t worry about me. I just want you to confirm you’ll always be by my side…”

Ouma trailed off due to Saihara choosing to bring his face incredibly close to his own. There were no more words left that the leader could pipe up -- Saihara had never been so close to his face, and Saihara was secretly freaking out on the inside. He had no idea what he was doing, as if his body had a mind of his own -- and at the same time, he knew exactly what he wanted to do. If there was one thing that could distract Ouma from possible pain he would inflict upon him, it was…, “I will never desert you like that, Kokichi. ...I love you.” The other could only find room to nod, and when Saihara moved even closer, that’s when he prepared his lips.

Saihara’s hand met Ouma’s heart. Saihara’s lips met Ouma’s own.

Although all Saihara could feel was Ouma’s lips, he was sure that there was much more happening to Ouma’s body than his own. Regardless, there was everything in that kiss they were sharing in that moment -- Saihara’s first, ever. And he was sharing it with the person that had taught him how to love. The person that had led him through thick and thin with a coat of lies and smiles. How on earth could Saihara ever repay him for such kindness? Kindness that was, albeit, shown in his own unique way, but in the end, it all led to the same truth. Every lie led to the truth in the end.

The truth was that they were both lonely, and there was no other perfect than to fill each other’s loneliness.

Saihara felt Ouma’s body twitch in his lap, but he did not choose to remove his hand or his mouth from the other’s contact. He was simply too focused on what was happening in his mouth area -- Ouma’s lips, entangled with his own. Both of them were obviously indulging, and the both of them let the other. Saihara remembered to part his lips, like the books said to do -- thus, he did. This was an open invitation for Ouma to start exploring more of his mouth, and likewise, Saihara began to do the same.

The detective’s whole body submitted to weakness at the touch of Ouma in his mouth, and him doing the same. This was much, much better than how the books described it. The hand that wasn’t enclosed between Ouma and Saihara was swung onto Saihara’s neck, and Saihara took this as a cue to use one of his own hands. He didn’t even remember that he was using his Soulmate’s Connection -- he just wanted to keep kissing Ouma, and he didn’t want to stop.

Carefully he left Ouma’s chest in favor of his cheek, and everything felt much better. Both of their positions and muscles relaxed into the kiss again, and they indulged once more, Saihara removing his lips for only a couple of seconds to give each of them a breath. Ouma made a plea at the sudden distance. Saihara returned as soon as he possibly could as Ouma began to sew his fingers into Saihara’s hair.

Saihara cracked his eye open -- just to watch for a second -- but instead, he eyed the curve of a black object now on his palm. He resisted shooting up from Ouma at that second to examined it, and instead gently released their kiss.

The leader blinked, wondering why Saihara had left him, both of their faces red and lips moist. Saihara didn’t answer with words, nor did Ouma ask with any either. Instead of all the obvious things, Saihara simply held up the hand in which he placed on Ouma’s chest.

Practically tattooed on his palm was the image of a perfectly carved heart, pitch black. Ouma blinked, and looked down at his own chest, which was still covered by his shirt. The leader nodded, as a sign of more consent, allowing Saihara to fumble with the collar of his shirt and pull it down --

There, implanted on Ouma’s chest, was the exact same heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you silly! they already made out, so what are you doing here for? (✿ ◜◒◝ )  
> but in everything, there you go. happy happy happies. i love saiouma so much it's ridiculous.
> 
> once again, i love reading all of you comments ! i always refresh and check my inbox tab just to see if there's anything new. i can't even fathom how we were able to reach nearly 200 kudos and over 1500 reads!!!! i'm losing my mind you guys. as always, thank you so, so much for reading and leaving kudos.
> 
> you are most definitely amazing.


	9. so i can learn how to love.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> saihara and ouma pull forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again. my name is cati.  
> well, this is it... i can't believe i managed to finish this fic in less than a week with over 20k words. i'm genuinely impressed with myself.  
> however, this is all thanks to your guys' comments. i know i've sounded like a record on repeat concerning it, but honestly? i really mean it. to everyone i've replied to in the past, i want you to know that every reply is unique to /you/. i cannot say anything more truthful than "thank you". so thank you.
> 
> a lot of information regarding my continued works concerning saiouma, shoutouts, and other bits and bobs will be in the end notes. i encourage you to listen to this in the last section (when they return to their cottage) of the fic to enhance your experience: https://youtu.be/hcQ92kMQvq4
> 
> otherwise, please enjoy the last chapter of this fic.

It took a little bit of time for them to tell everybody else. “Everybody else,” meaning, the whole school, because no doubt about it was the story of two students discovering their status as soulmates would spark high attention.

Ouma was noticeably nervous about the whole thing at first, as much as he attempted to conceal the anxiety by lies. Saihara knew why -- it was because he’d officially be known around the school for being previously Soulmate-less. Not as if not having a Soulmate was a particularly bad thing, of course, but because it would ruin Ouma’s reputation. After all, he was a skilled liar, and people either believed what he said or did not. Some may even come to believe Saihara was manipulated into falling in love with him, while some couldn’t care less.

When the day, a bright Thursday of July (about a month after being together and keeping their relationship a secret) came about, and the two waited patiently for Kaede Akamatsu’s arrival, Saihara took keen notice of Ouma’s quiet behavior. The supreme leader was simply toying with the straw that was in his large glass of Panta. Without much introduction, Saihara patted his head gently, “It’s going to be fine. Kaede’s a good friend of mine.”

Ouma’s head turned towards his newfound Soulmate. Although they had only been with each other for a month, it had already felt like a forever had taken place and another started anew. Ouma chuckled, “Nishishi~ who said I was worried, Shuuichi-chan? Look at your own face! Y-You’re practically sweating!”

Saihara couldn’t help but laugh. Ouma’s poor attempt at a lie of an excuse was simply that laughable -- even Ouma himself knew he could do better. Sometimes, there was just no use covering his tracks if Saihara could always find them. That was both the fortunate and unfortunate part of being Saihara’s lover. There were much, much more golden perks, though, like how Ouma could now freely scoot closer and cuddle into Saihara’s chest, “Shuuichi-chaaan~”

“H-Hey now, someone might see,” Saihara mumbled, becoming flustered over the closeness. Over the course of the month, hiding their affections was something that had to be done in order to draw less suspicious to them. A lot of Ouma’s prior behavior was very much already affectionate, like random hugging and calling Saihara his beloved detective. But there was so much that they couldn’t do, like hold hands, kiss briefly, have Saihara hold Ouma like he did some nights when Ouma wanted to be childish and couldn’t quite sleep without “Shuuichi-chan’s mother-like rocking.” It was a lot. It was painful, even, sort of.

“See what?” A familiar voice called out, and the two immediately scooted away from each other when Kaede made her appearance, a pleasant but unknowing smile on her face. Saihara was about to explain, but fortunately, his quick-thinking (boy)friend beat him to the punch.

“I was just sipping some of Shuuichi-chan’s disgusting coffee. I started pouring loooots of sugar in, but my beloved was worried that people’d think we’re wasting,”  Ouma explained, so swiftly and smoothly that it just had to be convincing enough to be real. Kaede made a face of slight confusion, but her expression showed her letting the topic go with a nod.

“Ah… alright?” Kaede finally managed, the ‘alright’ coming out along with a nervous chuckle. She sat down in the booth in front of the two’s shared one, and she suddenly felt the actual heaviness of the situation. She came here knowing that Saihara would be with Ouma… but this felt like an interrogation of some sorts. “So…. what did you need to talk to me about?”

Saihara gave a quick glance over to Ouma, who responded well with only a glance back and a sly, but joyous, grin. Saihara nodded quietly, his own smile on his face, now that they were both ready to share with the world the happiness they could bestow onto each other. They didn’t need to hide anymore after this. They didn’t need to keep quiet or still, leaving their relationship to shadows and darkness. No, there wasn’t use for that anymore -- at this point, they both knew they weren’t turning back. They both were happy with that.

The detective gave a moment’s inhaled, and exhaled softly before lifting up his left hand -- showing off the heart tattooed onto his palm, “I found my Soulmate’s Connection.”

Kaede’s eyes widened immediately. “What!? That’s great, Saihara!” Her eyes were on Saihara, but they were drawn immediately to Ouma, who was pulling aside his scarf and tugging down the collar of his shirt, revealing the same exact heart, “I found mine, too~”

The pianist took a moment to process this. Then she practically jumped out of her seat, “YOU GUYS ARE  _ SOULMATES _ !?”

 

* * *

 

Kaede’s outburst that day had obviously caught the attention of other students at the cafe. Some simply looked, others came to ask what was going on, and others knew exactly what she had said. And there it was, right fo the showing -- identically drawn hearts on Saihara’s hand on Ouma’s heart. The news didn’t fail to travel quickly around the school, and in a matter of a few hours, they were bombarded with questions after classes.

They were pulled away from each other’s company during a majority of clean up time, and it was only at the last 10 minutes of the hour were they able to meet one another’s side. When Ouma saw Saihara sweeping up a classroom, mouth dry from answering far too many curious questioners, he practically dropped the bucket of water he was carrying in order to fly into Saihara’s unexpecting being.

“G-GAH!” Saihara yelled, not seeing Ouma until it was a second too late -- Ouma tackled him into a hug from the front, the broom he was using falling to its side limply in replace for the supreme leader. “A-Aha, hello, Kokichi.”

“My beloved Shuuichi-chan~! I’m gonna diiiiie~ I haven’t gotten to kiss you since lunchtime!” How petty of him. Did Saihara really mind, though? No, not really. He treated Ouma to a nice kiss on the lips (restraining himself from initiating it any deeper) and let him go.

“There… you got your kiss. Go back to cleaning, now…,” Saihara joked, and Ouma’s face grew offended.

“Whaaat? D-Does Shuuichi-chan not appreciate my company anymore? ...How rude! Don’t be such an asshole, Shuuichi!” Ouma scolded, but Saihara knew all too well about this little front. He sighed offhandedly through his nostrils, bending down again to kiss him once more on the lips.

“There,” Saihara hummed, satisfied, leaving a pink-cheeked leader to stand there as he picked up his broom and began sweeping again. Ouma stammered, trying to come up with another false accusation, but ultimately failed. Oh, it was fun having each other’s hearts -- he was glad Ouma taught him this.

That evening, when the two thought they could finally have some peace and quiet with one another, a knock came from the door. Ouma groaned, openly complaining about all the interruptions they were receiving now (“Maybe we should’ve just continued being scandalous lovers, dont’cha think, Shuuichi-chan?”) as Saihara took it upon his own hands to open the door. It was their formal invitation and excuse of absence for the academy’s Soulmate’s Paradise Special -- for their students who had found their soulmate in another ultimate.

“Oh, y’know what that means, Shuuichi-chan!?” Ouma squeaked, waving the brochures and invitation back and forth. “That means we can have some islands  _ alllll  _ to ourselves!”

 

* * *

 

Well, they didn’t have the island  _ all  _ to themselves.

The island, called Jabberwock Island, was connected to Hope’s Peak Academy through a company called the Future Foundation -- a company in which graduated of the academy were encouraged to join after their high school years. Of course, students obviously had the choice not to take the job, but if they were to, it was an easy access for the graduates of Hope’s Peak Academy. Future Foundation’s entire goal was to spread across the teachings of all the amazing talents of each prime worker at the facility. A good example would be, if you worked as an athlete, you’d travel across the globe to give inspiring tips and speeches to young children.

Jabberwock Island was one of the Future Foundation’s base stations, and was also a means of field trips and vacations for the students or others around the globe that wanted a nice vacation away from it all. Ouma and Saihara were greeted by Future Foundation members on the Saturday of their planned leave, suitcases all packed with swimsuits and sun lotion, as they piled into a private jet and headed straight for the Pacific Ocean.

From their landing, they were given a basic tour of the main island, a map, and the card to a cottage in which the two would be sharing. While other visitors of the island were staying in the hotel nearby, the cottages themselves were reserved for those special highschool soulmates.

Once the two were settled into their shared cottage, Ouma danced around Saihara, hugging him tightly, “Maaan, it feels pretty good to be all alone with my beloved detective~ we should go and play some games!” Saihara agreed fondly.

The two spent their afternoon doing various things that Jabberwock Island had to offer. Exploring the facilities, traversing the beaches, and playing in the ocean. It had felt so long ago to Saihara. When exactly did he last visit a beach? Had he visited a beach at all in the past? Yes, he probably did… but when was the last time just out of pure enjoyment? In his pondering, Ouma splashed him harshly with the salty seawater, “Earth to Shuuichi-chan! You’re being boring. Keep splashing at me!”

Ouma was right. There was no use to think about the past like that. He only cared about Ouma right now, and how great everything felt -- how strangely  _ proud  _ he felt, watching Ouma have the time of his life, that black heart bearing itself proudly upon the boy’s chest. It was one of the best pictures Saihara could ever paint in his memories.

After getting dried up some, the two continued to traverse around the islands, both exploring and simply… talking. Talking was nice. It was fun. Ouma could supply Saihara with more built up crime scenes, and Saihara could solve them faster and faster. When the two arrived at a library, they spent a good rest of the afternoon simply cuddling against each other and reading. After all, many of the guests at the island were spending their time now swimming or doing other fun summer activities -- with that crossed off of their list today, the two could sit in unbothered silence.

With Ouma soon complaining about being bored of the activity, then, Saihara didn’t mind to set aside the book he was reading (he’d have to remember its title and where he left off, and hope there’d be an available PSD online) and continue to walk around with his soulmate, continuing to traverse around the islands. After stumbling upon a movie theater, the two took it into their own hands to watch something interesting until nightfall -- Ouma excitedly chose a horror films, as they were pretty much comedies in his eyes.

Ouma didn’t fail to deliver, as for a duration of the movie, Ouma was simply calling the actors out on their ludicrous acting and openly critiquing its plotline. It was almost miraculous that nobody else was in the showing at the time -- it saved Saihara from having to apologize to everyone who would have been there. The movie’s ending managed to come, after a long hour and fourty five minutes of Ouma complaining to no end about the movie’s quality, and decided to head back to the main island for dinner.

In the Hotel’s Restaurant, a buffet was taking place. The visitors indulged themselves, including Ouma and Saihara who, upon showing the front waitress their status as Hope’s Peak Academy Soulmates, were treated with a free ticket and all-you-can-eat pass. Saihara had somehow managed to convince Ouma to eat more than just all of the desserts that were out for grabs, and by the end of the meal, Ouma was still attempting to bite into more cake. “If I knew that treatment would be  _ this  _ good, I would’ve made out with you  _ much  _ sooner, Shuuichi-chan! Though, I don’t know… you aren’t that good of a kisser,” Ouma admitted, patting his stomach once he managed to get that last bite of cake in.

“H-Hey,” Saihara mumbled, knowing that he was joking, but still. He wondered momentarily about his quality of kissing -- personally, he thought Ouma was a pretty good kisser. Then again, he had never kissed anyone passionately before like he had with the leader, so there really was no way to compare… 

“...Just kidding. Your kissing makes me horny, Shuuichi-chan~” Ouma chimed, which only flustered Saihara even further. The detective blushed, looking away.

“N-Not here, Kokichi!” Saihara reprimanded, though, the stutter certainly didn’t help this situation. 

“Ohohoo~? Nishishi~ does Shuuichi-chan wanna swoop me off my feet and take me back to his love nest~?”

 

* * *

 

Saihara’s initial reaction to the statement was a blurted “K-Kokichi!”, but when the two arrived back to their cottage, behind a gently shut door, there was a much different story. Finally alone, finally in a space where they could just be themselves to each other, Saihara lifted Ouma’s skinny and light body enough for a bold kiss on the lips. He could feel Ouma’s smile into it, and the giggle that broke them away, “Nishishi~ perverted, Shuuichi-chan~”

Nothing explicit was done that night -- only some long kissing in the bed, and a little bit of touching. Saihara was unsure if it was alright to go ahead and hit a homerun, and eventually decided to save that for another day. After all, they had many, many more ahead of them -- this one was only one out of hundreds. When the two (or more of Ouma) was satisfied with the amount of kissing and touching they were doing, they made a lazy effort to change out of their daily clothing in favor for comfortable sleep wear. Ouma practically flopped back onto the bed once he had.

“Maaaan. Kissing you can be real tiring, Shuuichi-chan. Phewww…,” Ouma sighed out, and proceeded to start snoring. Saihara watched him fondly, intently. Well, the way he was “sleeping” was certainly unnatural -- but he could tell that it was an attempt at a somewhat true representation of the actual way the supreme leader slept. Ouma peeked out of a slightly opened eye and stared right back at Saihara, who was standing at the side of the bed, and proceeded to try and make his sleep more convincing. “Snnzz… I’m snoooring… so tirrrred…”

Saihara let out a snort of amusement as he made himself comfortable by taking his own position in the bed, pushing Ouma aside so that they were both under the covers. Ouma didn’t even take a moment to hesitate as he wrapped a majority of his body onto the other, clinging to his side. Saihara couldn’t help but find this to be absolutely adorable -- they had slept next to each other before, and even though it wasn’t a new thing… it was special. It was something that the two of them could only do with each other, and Saihara knew that feeling of specialness. It was a feeling he had to continue to cherish.

Carefully, Saihara leaned down slightly in order to give Ouma a caring peck on the head. Ouma shifted, “Ew. Shuuichi-chan kissed me. How gross~”

“Gross,” Saihara repeated after him, trying the word out on his tongue for himself. Yes, that was obviously a lie, and Ouma didn’t even need to say so to indicate it. Instead, he only snuggled further closer to the other, as Saihara wrapped his arm around his upper body, finding the perfect slot right in the crook of Ouma’s neck and gently draping around it. “...Kokichi.”

“Mmm~?”

“...You’re special to me.”

“Awww. For such a smart guy, you say pretty dumb things sometimes,” Ouma replied swiftly. Saihara listened quietly for the continuation he knew was coming. It did. “...Y’know. Saying things that I already know. But it’s not like all dumb things are bad, so I  _ guess  _ it’s fine.”

“...Alright. I can live with that,” Saihara agreed, and couldn’t help but smile along, too. Ah, well, he had chosen Ouma of all people to be his soulmate -- he expected nothing less than this out of their relationship. But in the end… minding was something he didn’t do. Kokichi Ouma was an enigma. An enigma he was still trying to figure out.

“Hmm… but y’know, I love  _ you _ , Shuuichi-chan,” Ouma chimed happily, voice quieter. Saihara didn’t know why, but he didn’t tell Ouma to stop. “You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met. I pride myself with knowing every surprise in the book… but sometimes, you seem to outsmart even me, Shuuichi. I love your surprises, though~ I can see all of your love when you give them to me.”

Saihara glanced downwards and observed Ouma’s face through the pale moonlight. His cheeks were slightly darker -- he was blushing. How adorable, but Saihara didn’t feel like getting teased out of the nice mood. Instead, he kept the knowledge of Ouma’s cute face to himself (he’d be the only one to get the fortune of seeing that), and responded, “Well… as long as I continue doing it, I guess I’ll never bore you, right?”

“Mhmm. So I want you to keep throwing everything you’ve got on me! Keep interesting me, Shuuichi-chan,” Ouma commanded, looking up at Saihara, and making eye contact. Those galaxies… yeah. He was there, and they no longer felt alone. He was there because Ouma let him be there. “And let’s build a pretty interesting image of our future, yeah?”

Saihara shifted downwards by a slight, as he let Ouma see his smile before meeting it with Ouma’s own. This was not done before Saihara whispered, just to him, “Yeah, Kokichi.”

Under the moonlight, and with Ouma’s soft lips entwined with his own, Saihara let that thought simmer in his head. An interesting future, with Ouma. Something that was not quite clear, but not quite blurred, either… the two were no longer staying put with each other’s emotions and feelings, and staying static. No, they instead, were letting their hearts carry themselves forward, hand in hand, and Saihara had let this all happen. It was all for the boy that had taught him how to love, when neither of them had somebody to be there. When both of them were inexperienced, while they still were. Regardless of the circumstance… they understood well that they had each other. And that was the most important part.

_That_ was the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> °˖ ✧◝(○ ヮ ○)◜✧˖ ° YAYYY, HAPPY END ! it may be 1 AM where i am, but i'm very happy that i got this out !  
> wowie... what a journey this fic has been. i only planned it to be a couple thousand words short, but all of the positivity that came out of it encouraged me to move everything forward and forward ... honestly, you guys are very amazing.
> 
> i'd like to give a shoutout to the following users, who i've always anticipated comments from! thank you for sticking around and encouraging me forward!: theholylight, MaskClown, slimedragon, smartiexoxo, FlawedReverie, and NorikoTora!! as well as AwayBard, benevolentJester, and RolyPolyVoldymort !! and everyone else that has dedicated themselves to commenting each chapter,,, you guys are so kind,, i love you all, 
> 
> i've never mentioned it before since i wanted to save it for the end, but if you haven't guessed, the chapter titles all were taken directly from this song: https://youtu.be/EmI6b8xFSX4 . i heard it at my little brother's elementary school fall festival, shazamed, looked over the lyrics, and it sparkled with saiouma.
> 
> and unfortunately... that's the most of the end of this fic. i'm so happy that i've been able to go on this journey with you guys ! if you want to ask me questions about the fic feel free to comment below, or send me an ask @ caticoo on tumblr. you can also research me @saiharatxt on twitter.
> 
> but fret not ! i'm not going to stop writing saiouma ! in fact... you can visit this poll right here to vote on the next fic ! that's right ! YOU ! the one that gets the highest amount of votes will get a fic started soon~~ -- POLL IS CLOSED NOW ! thank you all to those who voted ! the next fanfiction, a royal au, can be found right here ! https://archiveofourown.org/works/12376632/chapters/28153938
> 
> and with that... is actually the end. thank you so, so, SO much.
> 
> always be kind to yourself. i appreciate you so much. ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically this fanfiction at this point: https://youtu.be/nWETy4hpimE  
> 


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